Best Friends for Life
by Ms Goth Girl
Summary: New Summary: Hamish, Harry and Draco are best friends who are in different Houses. They try to find ways to make their friendship work. Draco started to learn how to use a touchscreen Ipad, Harry likes watching T.V, and Hamish is slowly polluting their minds for his amusement. Sherlock hates Mycroft for assigning him as a teacher but John loves every minute of it.
1. My Sister and Mycroft

**I am Best friend's with Hamish Holmes**

**By Ise**

**Summary: **Hamish met Harry Potter and together they become best of friends. In their journey, they will have to find ways to survive the upcoming war. It will be a test for Hamish to teach his new found friends the wonders of technology, introducing them new sweet games (like flappy bird) and also teaching one pure-blood the life of a muggle.

**Pairings: **Sherlock/John

**Characters: **Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Hamish Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and all the characters of Sherlock and Harry Potter

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sherlock BBC and Harry Potter

**Authors note: **I am screwing the timeline so Harry Potter is now sharing the same time line as Sherlock BBC. And this is unbeta'd so watch out for wrong grammars and wrong spellings.

**My sister and Mycroft made a baby together**

**Chapter 1**

When Sherlock left from this world John tried his hardest to survive without him. He moved out from the flat and lives somewhere far away from Baker Street as he could. He is now living somewhere cheap and it is near walking distance to his work so everything turns out alright for him. Well, not exactly. There was the grief-phase of course. The sight of his best friend falling and landing on to the ground where the pavement was covered in his precious blood traumatized him for good not even Ellen, his therapist, could cure that away with a pill. He always avoided the place where Sherlock took his fall like a plague. It was a reminder of his failure on not helping him on time. And the things that he'd said about him crushed him knowing that his words might somehow hurt his friend and there is nothing he can do to change them or take those words back because Sherlock is gone. Gone. For the past two and a half years.

He stopped visiting his therapist knowing that meeting her won't help the heartbreak. And he stopped talking to Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade without having to remind himself on what life that he have lost. He even ignored Mycroft's words in giving some form of comfort in his creepy way knowing that he blame him for his dead brother. He ignored everyone around him for in his eyes they are boring and bland; they are not like Sherlock's brilliance that always caught his attention.

God he missed the mad man.

His phone made a loud obnoxious ping. Without glancing to look, he knows that it is an unknown number and he can tell who that number belongs to.

_John would you like to have tea with me? For you've been in your flat for three days now-MH_

John turns his body to face the wall as he lay on his plain boring bed. He stared at the grey boring walls with dead eyes. He stopped crying a long time ago and he believe there are no longer tears to shed for him.

His phone glowed from his desk table followed by another ping sound.

_John, stop acting like this you are an adult. What would my brother think when he found his doctor lying around, wasting away?-MH_

John closed his eyes as he sleeps for god knows how much he needs one.

**Sherlock**

Mycroft placed his phone on his expensive table seeing that the doctor won't reply to him. He sighs softly as he rubs his eyes with his hand feeling a headache coming from thinking too much about the doctor and his brother. He glanced at the small T.V screen where it shows the old, tired doctor sleeping. He cursed his brother for leaving him with a broken man for that man now hated him. But he can't blame the old doctor's feelings for his actions where unforgivable and knowing his brother he will do all the more unforgivable things just to keep his few remaining friends and his beloved blogger and doctor safe.

He opens his silver apple-brand laptop and opens a file regarding his brother's mission in dismantling Moriarty's web. He types a few choice words into the file before calling in his trusted assistant who now chooses a name Arianna.

"Arianna how is our project? Are there any problems, or he is now working fine?" Mycroft didn't look up from his laptop as he types a few codes to find the location of his brother. Ah, he is now in Sri Lanka.

Arianna placed the documents that listed all things about their project.

"Everything turns out the way they are, sir. He is improving. His intelligence is slowly advancing to a maximum level possibly reaching to the same level as him in a couple of years." Arianna starts using her blackberry. "His health is perfect, his understanding with human communication is well developed but he hasn't said a word."

"Then he is a healthy four month old boy, yes?" Mycroft briefly took the folder and opens it to skim the document. His eyes are reading them for just a minute before closing the folder and hiding the documents in his drawer.

"Correct, sir."

"Well, then let us call Miss Watson and tell her to meet us with Mr. Watson tomorrow if possible." Mycroft stood up gracefully as he took his umbrella from his assistant stretch out hand. "I am going to meet my new nephew today and see how he is doing."

"Of course, sir." Arianna followed her boss while calling Miss Watson.

Mycroft went out from his office and took a ride with Arianna with him. They drove all the way to Dartmoor where Sherlock and John's case took place, in the Hounds of Baskerville. There he meets Dr. Stapleton who was waiting for him.

"Dr. Stapleton." Mycroft nods his head at her.

"Mr. Holmes." She straightens her posture knowing she's meeting a man with real power. "You hear to see the boy?"

"Correct." Mycroft wave his umbrella. "Lead the way for I am dying to see him."

They all started walking.

"Why now, sir?" Dr. Stapleton cringed at his cold eyes pierce through, seeing her as he unravels her thoughts and secrets with just one glance. "If you don't mind me asking."

Mycroft was silent for the past three minutes as they both took out their cards to swipe them and have their eye scan. They step into the elevator as it went underground.

"You know about my brother and his blogger, yes?" He plucks out his golden pocket watch to check the time. Eight minutes. Good, right on schedule.

"I've met them few years ago, and read Mr. Watson's blog." She nods at him.

"Then you must know about my brother's unfortunate demise. How he was fraud and many people believe him as a fake and not a true genius."

Dr. Stapleton was silent as she thinks. She knew that the papers were lying. She had seen Sherlock Holmes act. She knew what her eyes were telling her when she saw him gather enough sufficient facts about the Sargent in order to get the right password. She saw him work by sitting in his chair scanning his belongings asking her about his habits until he finally found the right word to unlock all the files. His mind was amazing, sometimes scaring her even now.

She knows that Sherlock Holmes is not a fake.

"I don't believe the papers, they are all just hogwash." She stared at Mr. Holmes in the eye letting him see that she believed in his little brother.

Mycroft studies her carefully before relents on explaining his purpose.

"This boy, he is no ordinary boy Dr. Stapleton." Mycroft spoke quietly. "He shares my brother's DNA thus making him my nephew."

"Oh my god." Dr. Stapleton covers her mouth, gasping in disbelief. "Are you saying that this project, this boy is-."

She made an odd sound.

"It sounds to me that you've grown fond of the child, Doctor." Mycroft replied coolly. "You see, this boy was created with a purpose, a purpose which is so important that it might save a life."

Dr. Stapleton didn't say a word as he explained.

"Mr. John Watson is a walking dead man. Since the death of my brother whatever it is that made him John was destroyed. He is living his life wasted and in the matter of time he will finally do something drastic that will kill him." They stop as Mycroft carefully lean towards her, towering her with his height and power of intimidation. "So, doctor, I would like for you to follow the orders as just as before but do not let your feelings ruined this project, understand?"

She shakes the fear in her as she dared question his intentions.

"You're telling me that you use your brother's DNA to create a clone for the sake in having John Watson raising him thus preventing him thinking about committing suicide?" Dr. Stapleton tries to control her tone of voice. "Do you know that this is crazy? How can you do something so inhuman?"

"It is not your choice in the matter Dr. Stapleton. You are here to help the child's development seeing that everything in his system is all checked before sending him off with a family." Mycroft stands straight before walking towards the grey door that leads to the project. "My actions may sound to you has horrible, barbaric even, but I can assure you that this will help Mr. Watson overcome his grieve. And if there is any consolation the child is not a clone but a real boy. He is the son of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson."

**Sherlock**

John wakes up with his phone ringing. He groans as he rubs the sand in his eyes. He sat up straight feeling his muscles complain at him before turning his legs over to the edge of his bed. He waited until the ringing stops and begins his boring day.

John got dressed and ate what little food he had before grabbing everything he needs before he left for work.

John made a mental note in his head in buying some groceries after he finished his work and of course calling his sister later when he checked his phone to see who called.

He did his job in a monotone way. He felt like he is a robot doing the same thing but in a different day. He checks some kid who is suffering with high fever, a guy who needs to have his lungs check and a young woman who is now crying thinking she might die despite the fact that she's only suffering a small cold and not pneumonia.

When the clock struck one John sat on his leather chair with a tired sigh. It's his break today. He always felt tired. Nothing in this world could change his life, not when the man with the power to turn John's whole world into adventure and danger is now gone he knows for sure that he will never encounter the same thing again. He laced his fingers together and set his elbows on top of his table as he daydreams the good old days. Then his mind drifts to the illegal firearm that he hid in his drawer. Maybe he could end this boring life and meet with his amazing best friend in to the afterlife? John shook his head. No. I am stronger than this. John thought but deep down everything is not the same without him. He knew that he can't live this life without him, his best friend. If he has enough time to analyze his own feelings he might say he is in love with Sherlock Holmes but the grief has clouded everything in him. The darkness is now cloaking him and sometimes he could feel death's touch hovering over him.

If he can't find anything to distract himself then everyone in the world will find his death in the news soon.

A sharp knock was heard startling John from his depressing thoughts.

He clears his throat before speaking. "Come in."

The door opens to reveal Sarah, beautiful Sarah who look quite concern. Shit.

"Hey." Sarah smiled beautifully. God, why did things between us didn't work out? Oh, yeah Sherlock did this. He is such a cockblocker sometimes. John chuckles mentally, slightly brighten a bit.

"Hey to you too. So what's up?"

"Want to go have a bite?" Sarah stood in front of him.

"Hmm, sure. I love to." John stood up from his seat and together they went out to eat their lunch. Just this once let him forget what he has lost.

Let him live with a smile before he too will be gone.

**Sherlock**

"Damn it, Johnny." Harry Watson cursed as she snaps her phone shut obviously her brother is now ignoring her calls again. Harry frowns seeing the man in front of her is having a slice of dark chocolate cake. Mycroft Holmes, brother to her own brother's flatmate who committed suicide two and half years ago and that everyone thinks he's a fake and liar, is now sitting in front of her with a knowing look in his steel grey eyes. How the hell did she managed to make acquaintance with this dangerous man?

She scowls, now remembering a bitter memory resurface. It was two and half-years ago, four months since the crazy detective died. She tried to comfort her brother by taking him out or something to cheer him up but in those few months the scar was fresh and the pain even fresher when remembering and having her brother push her away, slamming the door in front of her face despite the chilly wind in November leaving her standing outside, helpless knowing she can't help her brother now. Not today and not ever.

There were times the past comes to bite her in the ass and this was one of those days when the memory of her brother Johnny helped her when she was pissed off and drunk, nursing her back to health before going back again causing her brother to feel the pain and anger of her actions. Those days when the reminder of her wife Clara left her heartbroken and bitter, the alcohol was her only friend and companion. It's a wonder she didn't die with alcohol poisoning.

But now, her little brother needed his older sister. But how can she face him when she's a walking disaster herself?

Two weeks later and no luck in talking things with her brother a black car pulled right in front of her apartment followed by a text message signed under unknown telling her to get into the car or else. The right thing to do was to call the cops but when anther message came after the first one telling her that the unknown person knows about her brother and that this person needs to talk to her in person.

And that's how she met Mycroft Holmes.

She's been sober for the past two and half years thanks to that man. It was him who finally gave her the push that she, Clara and John needed. With his power and skill in persuading her and sometimes scaring the pants out of her to get her act right she managed to have the self-control that she desperately need.

So two and half years, there was a reason for her sending to rehab. Mycroft Holmes has a plan to help her brother. She has seen the signs of a walking _suicidal_ man and she was afraid something bad will happen to her brother. So Mycroft offered her a solution. She wasn't sure how she agreed to this crazy shit plan but she became the surrogate mother of his dead brother's baby. How fucked up is that? And how much of a fucked when she found out where did he get his brother sperm. Mycroft stash away his brother sperm somewhere and Jesus she doesn't want to learn more.

Nine months and one painful labor later, she gave birth to a baby boy with curly hair. She remembered the experience with great clarity. The baby was small and pinkish, his nose; she can tell that's a Holmes, but the mouth and the shape of the eyes, now that's a Watson. While everything is all Holmes she wondered what color were his eyes.

And big baby blue eyes staring at her sleepily. A-booyeah, Watson is the winner. Ha! Beat that Holmes. She grins as she tickles the baby's chin.

"Hey, son. Welcome to the world."

Mycroft was with her when she held him for the first time ever. He was curious himself to see the result of a Watson and a Holmes.

"He is a normal baby. But I can see Sherlock everywhere in him." Mycroft reach out tentatively with a finger tracing his face then touching those curly hairs.

"Nuh-ah, he has the Watson eyes." Harry said. "Not everything is a Holmes."

Mycroft force a smile at her. "Thank you, Miss Watson."

"Hey, you said this little guy is going to help my brother so it's no biggie." Harry told him calmly. "And I owe a lot to my brother, I'm doing this for him."

Mycroft nodded. "Indeed, I owe a lot to Doctor Watson as well. He helped change my brother into a great man and a better person."

"Johnny is awesome like that, ya'know. Helping people, saving lives, that's his thing." Harry smiled at him then at the baby. "I'm going to name him Hamish, cos' I know how he hates that name."

"Hamish it is."

"So, Miss Watson no word from your brother?" Harry snaps her eyes to stare at the pair of steel grey. Bringing herself into the present.

"No, my brother is being a dick. He keeps ignoring my calls." Harry grumbles insulting things to her brother before thinking to herself about something. "How is he?"

Knowing what she was talking about Mycroft took his time in drinking his afternoon tea.

"Hamish is quite fine. He is healthy and well advanced for his age. You can tell that he has developed a deep human understanding when it comes to human interaction and communication."

"Ahhh, that's great. Cool." Harry look relieved to hear this. She was afraid that Mr. Holmes was keeping the boy in some form of facility. "Be sure to feel glad Johnny, we're seriously doing this for you."

Mycroft seemed to be ignoring her as he continues to nibble his cake.

"So what now? We can't call him ahead to tell him. He's been ignoring me and I know he's ignoring you as well."

"Quiet so, Miss Watson."

"Harry."

Mycroft pause.

"Excuse me?"

"We've known each other for a while now, man. We're no longer strangers." Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "We already passed this, so first name bases level up."

"Very well, _Harriet_." Mycroft looks like he swallowed something sour. Harry scoff at him. Close enough. "We're going to surprise your brother."

"Like, what? Ambush him in his own flat?"

"If that's how you put it."

"I'm cool with it but there's one problem. I don't know where he lives. He won't tell me. I heard he moved out from Baker Street."

"Do not worry your small mind Harriet. I know where your brother is." Mycroft took a sip of his tea when he noticed the look on her face. He gave her a bored look knowing the look anywhere. He had seen it on John's and everyone else faces before.

The look where you know it was creepy.

"Seriously, you keep tabs on my brother?" Harry looks a bit creep out. "You know what your doing is illegal and downright stalker-ish, right?"

Mycroft just ignores her.

**Sherlock**

"John, how've you been?" Sarah twirls the straw in her orange juice as they both ate at the nearby diner.

John munches slowly of his sandwich before swallowing.

"Honestly?" John avoids looking her in the eye. "I am not so sure, Sarah."

Sarah reach out to touch him but stop short when she sees his hands holding his sandwich tight before letting it go. She pulled her hand back.

"John, talk to me, yeah?"

She smiled softly at him.

"I missed him you know? Every day. And it hurts knowing that there is nothing I can do to bring him back. No miracle." John's voice sounded so broken it breaks her heart to hear him.

"I wanted to think that this was all just a bad dream and one day I might wake up to hear him playing that blasted violin of his in the middle of the night." John swallowed heavily. He took a sip of his own drink before continuing. "You know he can play good music when using it properly instead of sawing away his own violin like he's going to murder it."

Sarah shook her head telling him, that no she didn't know he can play a violin.

"When I woke up from my bed do you know what comes in to my mind? I keep thinking that Sherlock is gone and I am alive and I will tell you this Sarah, how unfair this is. This can't be right. Sherlock supposed to live and not dead." John clasped his hands together as he bowed his head. Emotions so heavy he couldn't hold them in. "Sherlock deserve more than this. He helped a lot of people he saved them and what some people give him in return? People think that he is a liar and a fraud! That he faked is way in making those crimes so that people will think that he's a genius and no one believed him or me that Jim Moriarty was real."

John took a deep breath.

"He's real. Sherlock is a true genius and Moriarty is real."

Sarah stared at him with those lovely eyes and said those words that John didn't realized he needed them to hear.

"I believed you John." Sarah paused before smiling him. "And I believe Sherlock is a real genius too."

John stared at her, a bit stunned, before wiping those pesky tears away. Embarrassed, John whispered a small thank you.

John came home after work and it is exactly six o'clock when he noticed that his door was opened. On high alert John creeps slowly towards his door, opening it quietly before scanning inside.

"Come in John there's no need for you to act like this it is after all your flat." A voice that he knew all too well came from inside his living room. John closed his eyes, silently praying to god to give him patience and strength.

"Mycroft, what the hell are you doing here?" John demanded as he took off his coat while starring at the man in an expensive suit and his trusted umbrella in hand. Mycroft was sitting in his old sofa staring at him with those knowing eyes.

"We're here to visit you, John." Mycroft smirked at him. "It is after all such a long time."

"Mycroft get the hell out of here. Now."

"Johnny is that how you treat a guest." A female voice spoke from the kitchen. John turned to the source of the sound to find his sister holding a baby boy.

"What the hell?" John looks incredulously at her then at the baby. "Harry? Is that a baby?"

"Johnny language!" Harry carried the baby with a warm bottle in hand. "And yes, it's a baby."

"I didn't know you have a son." He slowly walks towards her. Harry feeds the baby while starring at John with amusment.

"Oh he isn't her son, John." Mycroft paused as he took in the scene observing everything. "Despite the fact she gave birth to him, she isn't her son."

"What are you talking about, Mycroft?" John glared at him. "And what are you all doing here?"

"Let me handle this Mycroft." John turned her harsh gaze at her causing her to flinch. John softens them when he realized what he was doing to her.

"What's going on? Harry, why do you know Mycroft?"

Mycroft blessed him, kept quite as he watches the two siblings with interest. Harry placed the bottle on the nearby table.

"John." Harry gulped softly as she clutched the babe in her arms. "Can you recognize him?"

John stared at the baby and got a real good look at him. He took notice of the boy's curly hair, his nose and his face but the eyes they look exactly like Harry's, no, not just Harry's but his as well. And then, an imaginary lightning struck him when he noticed the resemblance with him and the his dead flatmate.

"Oh my god." John gasped. "Harry."

The tone of voice told her John needs her to explain him soon before he explodes in to an emotional mess.

"Johnny let me tell you something. I haven't had a drink for the past two and a half years."

John was stunned.

"Mycroft was the one who gave the final push that we all need. He helped me Johnny. I was in rehab for two and half years and still counting." Harry cradles the child when she noticed he's starting to make a fuss. "Thanks to him I am clean. But there's more to it you see. He told me you're not doing so well. And he offered me a solution. I know we haven't talk in a while Johnny but I know that you need someone and that someone is not here anymore."

John turned pale when he started to connect the dots. Sherlock would be proud of him for figuring this out so soon.

"Harry you're telling me that this boy is Sherlock's?"

"I volunteered myself to be a surrogate mother. He's yours too." The baby turned its baby blues at him. He looked at him curiously before reaching out to him.

The baby cooed and John's heart melted. He reaches out to take him and the baby screech in delight.

"Hey little man." John held him tenderly. "What's his name?"

Harry looked at him hopefully.

"Hamish."

"A good, strong name." John whispered. "If he's my son then how in the world did you get his sperm?"

John turned to Mycroft.

"After a decade of not using any form of drugs Sherlock decided to donate some of his sperm for the greater cause. He has some form of foresight that he will die an early age and that someday his genes will live on and be of some use for the good of mankind."

"That is so typical of him." John's voice was soft, broken.

"Johnny, are you okay with this?" Harry looked anxious. "I know we did this behind your back and without your consent but we know that you need someone to look after. You need something to hold on to and so we decided to give you him. A piece of him that you will have."

"Harry." John stared at her with teary eyes but instead of looking angry he smiled at her. "Thank you."

He walk towards her and hugged her tight while being careful with the baby in his arms.

Mycroft stood up dusting his coat to remove the dust before catching both Watson siblings attention by clearing his throat.

"Well it seemed that everything is sorted then. Here are the adoption papers John." Mycroft took out documentation papers. "All you need is your signature."

John handed over the baby Hamish to Harry who cried and fussed at being separate from him. Harry shush him, rocking him back and forth to soothe him while watching her brother take out a pen from his pocket.

John read the papers carefully before signing. He gave them to Mycroft who took them in his hand. He briefly scans them and he raises an eyebrow before glancing at John questioningly.

"Hamish Holmes?"

John shrugged.

"He is also Sherlock son too."

"Ah." Mycroft mumbled. "Then I will take my leave."

Mycroft nodded at them both and went out from the door.

"Don't worry Johnny, Mycroft and I have prepared the things for you to take care of little Misha back at Baker St."

Harry answered his problems when it comes to raising his new son.

"Wait, what? Back at Baker St. Harry you know I am not going back." John turned to her with confusion in his eyes.

"Bollocks, Johnny. My new nephew needs a good environment. This place? It's a pigsty. You want to raise him here in this neighborhood?"

"You got a point there, Harry." John concedes knowing that his sister is right. John's neighborhood is filled with shady people and it is not good place to start raising a baby boy. "Alright, back to Baker St. I guess I have to talk with Mrs. Hudson."

"Already taken care of, little bro." Harry winked at him.

"Mycroft sorted it?"

"Yep. That guy can do anything." She shrugs as she hands Misha back to him before starting packing her brother's things. "Guess there are perks in dating a Holmes."

"Harry, Sherlock and I weren't—oh never mind." John shook his head while staring at his son. "Hey Misha, I'm John your Daddy. We're going to be fine. Everything is fine. I guess I got my miracle."

Misha laughed as he touches John's face tracing them with his fingers as if memorizing the texture of his skin.

"Looks to me you're going be like your papa." John chuckled as he took his son's hand and put it in his mouth, nibbling them. "Nom. Nomnom. Hope you won't make a racket at three am in the morning, son, when playing the violin or some instrument you might find yourself interest in when you grow up."

"You're my miracle." Misha smiled without teeth at him. John leans down to kiss those baby cheeks.

**TBC**

**I made this at one o'clock in the morning and finished it at four thirty. God, I'm so sleepy to check everything so I'm posting this now. My apologies for the errors on my part. I guess that's what you get for having sleep deprivation.**


	2. 221b Family Pt 1

**I am Best friend's with Hamish Holmes**

**By Ise**

**Pairings: **Sherlock/John

**Characters: **Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Hamish Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and all the characters of Sherlock and Harry Potter

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sherlock BBC and Harry Potter

**Authors note: **I am screwing the timeline so Harry Potter is now sharing the same time line as Sherlock BBC. And this is unbeta'd so watch out for wrong grammars and wrong spellings.

* * *

**221b Family Pt.1 **

**Chapter 2**

**One year and six months has passed before Hamish's 1****st**** Birthday…**

A wail could be heard in the living room startling John from making his baby bottle. He cursed under his breath when some of the formula spilled and hit his skin. The baby's wail continues non-stop.

"Alright, little man! I'm coming!"

John quickly turned off the burner as he started to shake the bottle with one hand.

"Dear, luv, you are one hungry baby so different from your papa who barely eats unless being forced to." John headed towards the antique crib where he placed Hamish inside. Hamish stood seeing his daddy with his food at last. He squealed reaching out with his chubby hands towards him.

"Patience, now, it's still warm." John takes one of his son's hands in his, squishing them softly making him giggle at the sensation. "You're so impatient, my miracle, how many qualities you have that is of him? Is there any more room for me?"

Hamish cooed at him grabbing his hand in both hands and starts to nibble his fingers.

"Alright, alright already let me check before I'm going to give it to you, yeah?" John takes out his hand from his mouth and starts to sprinkle his wrist with the bottle. He tested a few times making sure the bottle isn't too hot. He nods his head in approval and gave the bottle to his hungry boy.

Hamish greedily sucks the nibble as he sat on his baby bum. He sighs and coos feeling content.

John smiled lovingly at his son. Who knew he needed this? There were times when he thought about starting a family of his own but having Sherlock as your flatmate plus best friend scared all the potential women away. Hell, he rarely had sex because of Sherlock's demanding attitude. Always texting him, telling him that he needed his help or some of those texts sounded like he was in some kind of danger causing him to ditched his date or potential wife in order to come home to the flat to find him safe but not harmed.

Honestly, it was frustrating.

Sherlock was giving him blue balls. He was after all man with some needs and unlike some people who has some great self-control in controlling his bodily needs and managed to stay celibate a decade or so without having sex, Sherlock should know that he wasn't like him. Oh, he knew Sherlock wanted his attention. He's a selfish bastard after all. A fully grown man who acted like a child that doesn't want to share his new toy, or to be more accurate him, his _only friend _mind you, to anyone, especially women, made it more glaringly obvious how easily jealous and sometimes territorial of him. For according to Sherlockian logic, Women were a threat to him, John and his work. At first, he found it cute knowing Sherlock rarely had friends, well he never had any, and thinking about him like a kid and that he sometimes acted like one made him feel amused at the same time exasperated at his actions.

Then again, Sherlock wasn't most people. But now that he's not here he sometimes wished that he's alive so that he could tell him, promise him even, that he will turn celibate himself and sworn of women for the rest of his man life so that he could have his best friend back. He wanted his full attention? He can have it!

God, why hadn't he realized that he had these secret feelings for his best friend? When he studied more about his own feelings he realized that somewhere along the way he started to develop some sort of attraction towards that mad man. He thought it was that type of love to your family or something but witnessing his suicide had shaken something within him. It felt like something snapped inside of him that he didn't know that was buried. It's like his death was a catalyst to everything he feel towards his best friend. Floods of emotions that were familiar at the same time unknown burst forth from within, drowning him with their intensity.

He thought it was grief but in time it was something more. He realized that the blazing sun that was Sherlock turned dark and he felt cold all over. He also felt alone too.

And that's when he knew, that deep down he was already in love with the man. He didn't realized it at first for he was dead set on finding a girlfriend at that time and trying to find the one that he would marry that he ignored the fact that he was already falling for one Sherlock Holmes.

He hadn't got the foggiest what got him. Could it be Sherlock's deductions about him and his life that caught his attention? Or the way he sees things with his eyes only and took any evidence no matter how absurd it is as an important fact in unlocking the truth that managed to impress him? He will never know.

But he did know that he's only attracted to one Sherlock Holmes. He tried looking at other men before but he couldn't stomach it for he only saw them as just some ordinary bloke and that's it.

It doesn't matter though even if he did finally accept his new found love for the consulting detective it won't change the fact that he will never get the chance to tell him that when he's six feet underground.

John went back to the kitchen to make his afternoon tea. When he was in the process of boiling he spotted a red circle on his calendar. The number 10 on the month of March was circled with the word BIRTHDAYwritten all over it made him realized that his son's first birthday is coming soon in five days. He should make some preparations and make a few quick calls. This is after all his first birthday party and it will be remembered as one important memory that he will keep.

"Hey, Misha, baby you finished with that bottle?" John turned to look at his boy who was about to fall asleep. His back lay flat and the bottle clutch in his hands making sucking noises a few times, nibbling them occasionally before stilling them. He turned to look at him with those baby blues before closing them blissfully.

John chuckled before continuing to make his tea.

After the first couple of weeks in having Hamish thrust into his life John had some serious thinking to do. He thought a lot of things of course, not thinking about his dead flatmate and the things that he had to say to him were left unsaid, oh no, he had plenty of time to mull over that later, like how was he supposed to raise a boy? He had no knowledge in parenting. Sure, he'd seen a lot of parents do it. He's a doctor after all, he knew how to handle kids but this, this is different. This is not just his son but_ Sherlock's _as well. He's a Holmes and seeing Sherlock and Mycroft growing up like that he hope that he's son won't be difficult to handle when he reached his teens.

He wasn't prepared at all. There are a lot of things to think about in raising a child. When he thought about financial issues he had to check on his bank account to see how much he had left and to his utter shock his money was increased to a higher amount, to the point that he has enough money to prepare for Hamish's college, that's when he knew that Mycroft once again raised his hand in helping him.

Hamish is after all a Holmes and a Holmes received the best that he needs.

But he has to call Mycroft for this. He was thankful for his help, don't get him wrong and he knew that he is now family to him but there are limits to these special treatments of his. He can't always rely on him not every time, he can't have him owing favors to Mycroft and he wanted to raised his son by himself with his own means, his own efforts for it won't mean anything at all to him if he keeps on asking help from him.

Mycroft agreed to his condition in limiting himself so he stopped giving these special treatments and let John do what he sees fit in doing with his and his son's life. He will only call when he really needs it. He just told John that he will help secure his financial troubles knowing John's job won't help him in a long mile.

John grudgingly accepted it knowing that he's right.

When John settled back into 221b Mrs. Hudson came to see him with tears of joy and happiness in her eyes and when those eyes landed on the child in his arms noting the resemblance with him and Sherlock, she knew instantly and there's no way to deny whatever idea that she had in her head about his relationship with Sherlock not even when explained to her that he and Sherlock weren't dating could change her mind or belief. Then again she always believed that they were together even to the first time they meet.

Mrs. Hudson was a wonderful grandmother. John told her that she could be Hamish's parental grandmother if she wants too. His words must have moved her to tears because she started to kiss him and hug him saying 'of course dear, I loved too.' She even offered herself to him that she could babysit him if he needed a break.

It was hectic the moving back to the place that held so many bad memories but with Hamish entering his life maybe he could replace those cruel memories with something warm and loving. He decided that raising Hamish here in 221b Baker St. is a start in changing his life by turning a page into a new chapter. His grief will pass, he knew, for he has his son to help him heal the aching wound in his heart.

Together they could work this out well.

John walked over to take the bottle from his hand as he reached the purple blanket (John cringed a bit knowing how expensive this material is) that was a gift from Mycroft to cover his small form. He studied his son's physic taking note that he's big for a baby and not skinny so different from Sherlock's tall but lanky figure. Mycroft told him Sherlock was like that when he was a babe so he knew what to expect.

He took a seat in his old chair and started to sip his well-deserved tea. He closed his eyes as he listens to the streets outside occasionally hearing a few cars zooming by honking along the way.

He's life will be perfect if one family member were here.

* * *

**Sherlock**

Sherlock received a text from Mycroft. He took out his touchscreen phone to open the file that he's brother had sent to reveal a picture of John and a boy who look just like him. John was sitting on his favorite chair, watching the windows with his tea in hand while in the middle of the flat is a familiar crib that he hadn't seen it in years and inside of the crib is the boy, he assumed to be his child, obviously, sleeping.

Sherlock placed his slender fingers on top of the screen to zoom in the picture of John's tired but content face. He studied the new wrinkles, and a few white hairs making themselves known when the sunlight hits them in a certain way, memorizing the new details of him and stored them in his mind palace where he placed them under John. He spotted a small smile on his face telling him that John is healing from all the hurt that he had caused.

_He's okay._ Sherlock thought with relief.

Sherlock then slide the screen to move the picture so that he could have a good view on the child. He studied the picture longer than necessary as he tried to pin point the resemblance. He can tell that the child has his features but the size of his mouth and the shape of his eyes aren't his. He wonders what color the child's eyes are.

_He shares the same eye color as your doctor, brother-MH_

Sherlock growled at his brother's text but paused as he read them again, this time carefully.

_What did you do Mycroft?-SH_

Instead of answering to his question Mycroft send him another text.

_He's first birthday will be on the tenth of March-MH_

That's all the information he can get from his brother. Sherlock knew that his brother wanted him to come home.

_You know I can't come home, brother. I haven't dispose of Moran yet.-SH_

_Let me handle him. Come home, Sherlock. You have a family now.-MH_

Sherlock closed his eyes. _Home._ He missed John deeply the thought of coming home is like heaven to him. But it is not safe yet. Moran is still a danger to John.

_Everything is settled brother; you are no longer the fraud and the people now start to believe that Moriarty is real and that you were right all along. Your reputation has been salvage. And Moran will be dead before you arrived to London and meet John.-MH_

That did it, knowing Mycroft he meant every damn word.

_Who's the mother?-SH_

Sherlock won't move from this small, cheap apartment in America if Mycroft won't give him enough facts to collect data. If his thought was right he needed confirmation from him.

_If you wish to know it was Miss Watson. Do not worry she's clean I made sure of that.-MH_

"Mycroft, you meddling control-freak fat bastard." Sherlock groaned knowing what his brother had done.

_At least there won't be any worry about having the doctor marrying to some woman. He won't be worrying about having kids when he has him and if you have the courage, brother, then take this chance and don't lose it. I work hard in securing your happiness-MH_

_Mycroft, STAY OUT OF THIS!-SH_

_Come home, Sherlock.-MH_

"God damn him."Sherlock rubbed his face with his hand, closing his eyes as he tries to analyze the information that he was given. His phone vibrates a minute later announcing his brother's text.

_Your flight is scheduled to be depart tonight 1800.-MH_

_Fine.-SH_

Sherlock tossed his phone somewhere he didn't care as he falls back on his bed starring at the fan twirling around releasing miniscule air. He thought about going home after he was done destroying every connection that Moriarty had formed for three years and the expected reunion that he will soon have with John. He even thought about the different expressions that John will be showing to him when they meet. He will of course be disbelief at the sight of him being alive, then denial because he saw his dead body and then anger that will lead to betrayal but soon it will reach to relief and joy of him being alive and that he survived the fall.

It's the look of betrayal that he's worried about though it is understandable of him to feel that way but he's afraid he will soon lose John's trust in the process knowing his actions killed it. But John would understand when he explain him things about why he took the jump. He will understand.

Sherlock slowly turn his head to check at the clock on the wall to see that it's one o'clock. He has still time to rest. God, he was exhausted. His body hurt everywhere and he knew that he has some few broken bones but it will heal. It will be just another reminder of his cause.

This is after all for John.

Caring is not an advantage but if it is John he will make an exception.

* * *

**Sherlock **

In his office Mycroft smiled to himself knowing that his brother will be safe soon once he lands on England's soil.

"Alicia, is it?" Mycroft looked at her with his steel grey eyes. His assistant meets them head on without making a flinch. He admired her boldness, that's why he chose her as his perfect assistant knowing that she will do her job as she was told. He was aware of her loyalty to him and he made full advantage of it, handling it carefully of course and with respect knowing that she deserved it as much.

"Yes, sir."

"Report."

"The Ministry is requesting for you to meet with the French Ministry regarding some affairs that our resources believed to be some remnants of Moriarty's remaining network."

"Hmm, are they aware of this?"

"Yes, sir they believe that the few remaining men who were working for Moriarty moved to France and started to meddle some things, sir, _the other things_, which they aren't supposed to be involved in."

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" Mycroft made a hm-ed sound knowing that if he is careful than he could avoid the _great big secret _reveal to Europe and eventually the rest of the world.

"How did Moriarty's men know about _the other side_?" Mycroft narrowed his eyes at her.

"I believed that it was by some accident, sir." Alicia frowns. "They tried to kidnap a pure-blood child that they use as a hostage. They didn't know what they were up against when facing powerful but angry pure-blood family. It caused quite a scene killing four men but three of these men survive from the encounter with their memories intact."

"Bollocks." Mycroft groaned. Another mess to clean up to. "I will take care of it."

Mycroft knew that there is another society hidden in their world only a selective few people who knew about this community. Those people include the Queen, the Ministry, and himself. This community has been living with them alongside for many, many years dating back to King Arthur's time and it has been kept a secret to the public world about the existence of another world that is filled with _magic. _

Yes, magic.

There is a Magical Community hidden from any normal man and only those who share the same magic can enter the magical world. He, himself, is one of these magical people and he is one of the rare magical beings who actively stayed in the Muggle World, as his kind who are fond on calling the people that are non-magical. Mycroft is like the mediator, the bridge, between the Magical World and the Muggle World in whatever affair that the muggles did that will cause the big reveal, either by accident or not, he will intercept them before they can make a move in revealing the powerful knowledge to the world same situation if an idiot wizard or witch tries anything to jeopardize themselves then he will be there to prevent it.

His people back in the Magical World don't agree with his choice in staying with the Muggles. There are some who declared him as a blood-traitor, for the Holmes Family were an old Wizarding Family and was respected by the other pure-bloods but since his younger brother started to get bored of the Magical World and started vising the Muggle World, reaching to the inevitable were the other pure-blood families believe that they were siding the weaker human beings, going against their belief in blood supremacy, which in his opinion were nothing but shite, but he had no choice but to follow his wayward brother for their mother worries him and he has to keep a close eye on his brother since he is prone in attracting danger until now. Like that one time he joined as a Death Eater for _fun_.No matter how many times he explained that it was some sort of experiment he will never forget the wrong choices that his brother made.

Mycroft shudders when he remembered those dark days. How capable of his brother was when turning to the other side of the law even as he masquerades as a muggle, hiding his magic from the other side, he can be a dangerous foe even without using magic.

Although there are some pure-bloods respected him, grudgingly of course, in his choice of career after all it was him who protected their secret from discovering and, oh, let's not forget, how much power that Mycroft holds. Despite his choice the people in the Wizarding World cannot deny that Mycroft has enough power to control not just England but their community. They are just lucky (or it depends actually) that they can still keep their Ministry without his involvement unless strictly necessary.

What's even more luckier is that Mycroft is too lazy to become a Dark Lord (Sherlock's words but to those who heard him said it a few wizards and witches who knew the famous Holmes Brothers shudders at the thought).

"And, dear Alicia, prepare your team. It is time for my dear brother to come home." Mycroft stood up taking his umbrella from under his desk table as he stood. "Kill Moran. I want the homecoming to be perfect as possible. I work too damn hard for this and I don't want it to be a waste."

Mycroft went out twirling his umbrella with his hand. His assistant followed after him but they split different ways to do their work.

Mycroft wondered, as he fined a place to Apparate, what happened to the son of the Potters? Maybe he should update on his kind sometime soon it's been after all a long time since the Dark Lord Voldemort's sudden defeat.

* * *

**TBC**


	3. 221b Family Pt 2

**I am Best friend's with Hamish Holmes**

**By Ise**

**Pairings: **Sherlock/John

**Characters: **Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Hamish Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, Harry Watson, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and all the characters of Sherlock and Harry Potter

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sherlock BBC and Harry Potter

**Authors note: **Hey, I wanna say that the name of Hamish Malcolm Holmes is owned by someone who shares the same tumblr name. I just want to honor the person in creating such awesome tumblr and so the name Hamish _Malcolm _Holmes is not mine. And this is unbeta'd so watch out for wrong grammars and wrong spellings.

* * *

**221b Family Pt. 2**

The airplane that Sherlock was taking finally landed on England's soil. Sherlock stretch out his legs as he steps out and headed towards the exit. He brings his coat closer to his body, feeling the cool breeze that England was famous for its cold weather brushes his curly hair. He glanced around with his silver eyes catching anything that he sees analyzing everything about everyone before dismissing them as irrelevant to him. He spotted a black car parked right in front of him and a woman that he knew as Mycroft's assistant step out from the back seat, opening the door for him with a tight smile.

"Mr. Holmes." The woman gestures the door before taking out her blackberry, sending a message to Mycroft about his arrival, apparently.

What was her current name again?

"And you are?" Sherlock headed towards her, eyeing her facial expression, her outfit and the way she held herself. So far, he found something that might concern his brother seeing the way she texted her blackberry with rapid fingers it must've been of national importance.

"Athena."

"Hm." Sherlock ducked as he took a seat on the leather cushion. Athena followed soon after and the car starts to drive away from the airport. "We're going to meet my brother correct?"

"Of course sir, Mr. Holmes would like for you to report on your mission."

"Moran?" Knowing what he was asking her.

Dead or alive?

"As promised." Dead.

Sherlock turned his head away from her as he gaze at the black glass pane with boredom. He starts to think about John again, it's always about John he realized but then something new start to slip its way into his mind.

The child.

He never found out about his name. Should he ask about it from his brother? Or from John himself? Which is better? Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows realizing that he'll soon meet his son.

His _son_.

He's apparently a father now. He never thought about himself as a family-kind of man. He knows himself that he is no fit in starting his own brood. He would be a terrible father and if ever, seeing what his brother was planning to do, that he and John started to get together, become parents for the child then he would be terrible at being John's husband (?) or partner.

He doesn't know how he would feel about this. This was all new to him. Him, being a father, the very thought was absurd!

He remembered his own father, how he was a distant but a strict man. He knows that his own father was a well-mannered and old fashion person and being a powerful pure-blooded wizard he raised both him and Mycroft as strong, powerful and intelligent wizards.

He was the one who taught them that emotions were a weakness and it was coming from a family whose House was all from Slytherin. It had become a motto to the Holmes and all the Pure-Blooded family who shared the same House.

But his mother was the one who taught both of her sons the true meaning of love and caring, how to be human in a sense and the lessons that she always taught her children about not underestimating Muggles for in their own way they can be as powerful as any other wizard without using any form of magic.

Sherlock know this from experience. His thoughts drifted to Moriarty. His expression instantly darkens when he thought about the man that he can call his equal. He's dead now nothing could stop him from going home.

What Sherlock couldn't prevent was that his father's influence had been wired into his system and it goes the same for Mycroft, seeing that they grew up to be cold, cruel and manipulative. It brings sadness to their mother's heart seeing her sons no longer resembled being human. As the years had gone by Mycroft managed to salvage whatever that makes him human in the form of his love for his brother, even Sherlock knows about that for it was obvious that he is his brother's weakness while he himself is in the form of one Dr. John Watson, he's own human conscious and heart that he will vow to protect. His mother would be proud of their progress. He will never be like his absent and unfeeling father. He will be different. He will raise his son if he sees fit.

Then a thought occurred to him. Would John accept him?

Would he accept him into his life? Sherlock felt uncertain, sensing where his thoughts were heading. He knew that he will have to explain a few things to John and why he had to do what he had to do. But would he actually forgive him?

There's a huge probability that he won't trust him but still accepts him into his life, either for the sake of the child or John's sanity. He started to lean towards the child but knowing John he will feel the need to be close to him in order to find assurance that he is still here with him.

It doesn't matter now he will have to see it play out.

"We're here Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock stopped his musing as he opens the door to get out. He stood up straight, straightening his posture making him look tall and intimidating as he glanced around his surroundings.

He recognized the place as one of Mycroft's secret hide outs.

"Follow me, sir." Athena gestures him to follow her.

Sherlock shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed her towards the small cottage.

He found Mycroft inside the patio and it seemed to him that he was having a tea party with himself. Mycroft instantly zeroed in on his brother, a flash of different emotions appeared for just a millisecond before it was masked with a polite smile. If he were an idiot he wouldn't take notice of it but he was Sherlock Holmes, he sees everything and he knows that what he sees was relief and happiness.

His brother missed him and if he weren't Sherlock Holmes he would tell his own brother that he missed him too.

Geh, his time away from England has made him sentimental.

"Sherlock, brother, home at last." Mycroft stood up taking a good look at his brother's condition. He frowned just slightly before placing his fake smile on his face again. His little brother has lost a lot of weight and sustains a lot of injuries but nothing vital and life threatening. "Take a seat, and eat. You must be starving."

Mycroft gestures the plates which is filled with sweets and pastries. Sherlock grimaced slightly at the amount of sugar.

"Keep this up brother or you'll end up fatter than you already are." He smirks when Mycroft glared at him softly.

"Eat."

"No, thanks." Sherlock gave him a bored look ignoring everything on the table except the tea that he was offered to him. He felt a bit parch so he took tentative sips, ignoring his brother's smug looks. Hm, he preferred John's way in making his tea.

"So, Sherlock I believe that your mission was a success?" Mycroft pluck a piece of strawberry and dip it on the chocolate fountain that was placed in the middle of the table.

"Indeed. I wasn't expecting his organization to reach so far from England. He had a lot of connections that spread worldwide took me three years to destroy everything. But not one of his people survived, I made sure of that." Sherlock mumbled darkly as he stared at his cup.

A haunted look crossed his face in which Mycroft took notice of.

"You've change a lot my brother." Mycroft spoke softly. "I deeply regretted about the things that I have done just to get information from Moriarty at the cost of you tainting your hands. You killed, my brother and with that I am sorry."

Sherlock scoffed at him as he stared pointedly at his brother.

"It doesn't matter, Mycroft, for it was Moriarty who made a mistake in using John as a hostage and I swore to myself that I will stop him even if it means using any information that you have of me as a way to get leverage. I don't care that my career and my reputation had been damaged because of you and him as long as I get to end this game that he made for me than everything else is over. For I've grow tired of this nonsense that his delusional mind came up just to get my attention and impress me."

"Indeed, Sherlock. It seemed that the good doctor has been a good influence on you. You showed no enjoyment to his game of his any longer and I am happy to say that it is an improvement."

"Whatever. You said to me that caring is not an advantage, Mycroft, does this mean that I've grown weak? Has the feeling of being human made me damaged?" Sherlock stared at his brother with confusion and fear in his eyes, seeking assurance from his big brother once again.

Mycroft felt proud for his brother seeing that he has grown into a wiser man than he was before. His brother finally experienced the true meaning of love. He was glad that their father's training hadn't damaged anything that was Sherlock for he feared that if he did his brother would grow into a cold-hearted monster.

His brother had grown into a better man that he and his mother had hope for.

"No, my brother, I believed that love is not a weakness but instead of strength and support. When I said those words it was supposed to protect us from being hurt from other people until such a time when there is someone who is chosen to be our true person will come and break those walls that we build to protect our heart for it will reveal to us that they are the right person to hold our hearts in their hands to keep and cherish. I know that it is a frightening concept but that's how love is, there will always be a risk. That caring may not be an advantage but to the person that we held them in our hearts is an exception to the rule, don't you agree?"

"I suppose." Sherlock looked uncertain but he trusts his brother's voice of wisdom.

"Very well, then." Mycroft took a sip of his own tea before proceed to the main reason of their meeting. "You've done the impossible by taking down the whole organization without using magic of course? For it will be bothersome for me to clean up all the mess that you made if the Aurors came knocking on our front doors."

Sherlock snorts at him as he glared his brother with a look that shows that he is offended at Mycroft's suggestion.

"Of course I didn't use my magic, what do you think of me an incompetent fool that I have to use my magic just to kill and destroy his organization? That would be cheating Mycroft. I wouldn't cheat so early into the game and besides I can easily kill a simple, low-intelligent muggles, especially to those who work for Moriarty, without having to use my powers." Sherlock smirked at him darkly. "You know full well how dangerous I can be when motivated, even without a wand or my magic I am still a dangerous man to be feared."

Mycroft narrowed his eyes. "And I hope the world won't have to witness that again soon. I truly hope."

Sherlock smoothen his face, cleaning all the emotions as he stared blankly at his brother, understanding shown in his eyes when his brother mentioned his time as a would-be Death Eater. He was glad he didn't take the Mark and managed to escape alive. He knew that his actions in the past will soon come to haunt him and some of those times when he was siding at the other side of the law, some part of him didn't regret his decision. He had accepted the fact that deep down he will always be a dark being with evil nestled, sleeping in his black heart. And he also knows that his brother share the same fate. They we're born dark and dark they shall be when they're fully matured to their full capacity. It only thanks to their mother's effort in teaching them about humanity, human's love that managed to control the tide at bay.

Those were dark days. The memories that he had were kept hidden underground in his mind palace. It was one of the few memories that he could not delete and it will become a reminder for him if he fail to avoid in becoming Dark.

Although there was another way to control those dark urges.

John managed to control those darker moments of him with just a smile that is filled with love and affection, his friendship that he held within his black heart like it was a precious treasure to him become his ray of light and in time those feelings of become romantic love for the short man. His love increases every day when John stayed by his side until the very end, it cemented his choice to do good just for him, even if he tried. But just like what he told John all those years ago that he can't make people, especially him, heroes, and just like how he told Moriarty that he may be in the side of the angels they know for a fact that he wasn't one of them, not one bit.

The thing is, John somehow managed to bring out the good that he believed that was still buried deep down, to the surface, bringing out a different kind of man that Sherlock knows to be impossible, for that man he viewed as pathetic and weak and filled with sentiment can't be, truly him. John actually made him _feel_.

Honestly John prove him wrong once again that Sherlock Holmes actually has a heart, despite being tainted with darkness there is still some good within him after all.

He has a heart that is alive and filled with emotions. It made him feel uncoordinated; his brain tries to understand the new influx of information that was received and he barely managed not to shut down and break down at the same time. There are times he blamed John for damaging him for good. He ruined everything that he built for himself. He made him re-asset himself, trying to find a ground footing as he lost his balance and was dangerously close to falling down.

He should hate John for confusing him. For what more that he hated about himself was confusion, the feeling of not knowing what to do made him pissed off.

But this broken soldier had helped him become a true man.

He believed that John healed his disgusting soul that was destined to be in hell. John truly did succeed in rescuing him from his own pit. He is truly a good doctor.

The good man.

His John.

He knew where he stands and it took a lot of swallowing his pride to admit his deep affection to the doctor and the decision that he has to make for himself just so he could be the man that John knew all along he can be one to finally reach a conclusion.

Sherlock Holmes can't live without his blogger, his doctor, his soldier, his friend…

… his love.

For what is the use of the brain if he can't have his heart?

His mother's words rang true in his mind palace and he was happy that he met the man that has become his friend and in time his love.

Mycroft cleared his throat catching Sherlock's attention, snapping his thoughts, bringing him back from reality.

"Brother, I believed that you have questions regarding the existence of the child that is now currently living under 221b Baker Street with our doctor John Watson."

Sherlock perked up as he heard this.

"Yes, brother dear, tell me, what brought you to think in making a child for John and I?" Sherlock laced his fingers in a prayer, placing them under his chin his silver eyes stared unblinkingly at him. It should make anyone feel uncomfortable but not Mycroft. He didn't feel affected at his intense stare of his brother, after all he already gotten used to that when they were young.

"It has come to my knowledge that John was on suicide watch." Mycroft watched his younger brother's body stiffens but unnoticeable to anyone but him, and Sherlock knows that.

"He was suicidal?"

"I caught him putting his Sig Sauer P226 in his mouth a few times, one of my surveillance cameras that managed to stay hidden in John's new flat captured everything."

Sherlock clenched his jaw as he heard this. Oh, John why?

"There were close calls but he didn't finish the deed which was a relief to see that your doctor managed to stay strong but I know it won't be for long so I had to think of a plan, fast."

Mycroft paused when Sherlock bowed his head, his jaw trembles.

"Sherlock you must understand, when you jumped that day John's heart shattered and he knew that when you died some part of him died along with you. He had been living in grief and sorrow. The guilt obviously eating him alive and the anger was building so slowly that sooner or later he will snap and explode." Mycroft paused. "I was deeply concern for him so I waited to see if he will recover, he didn't. So I have to make my move soon and I seek the help of Miss Watson and you know the rest. The child has become the pillar that stabilizes him from doing anything that he might regret."

"What's the child's name, Mycroft?" Sherlock stared intently at him.

"Miss Watson named the child, Hamish. John adopted him." Mycroft revealed the document that John had assigned.

Sherlock took it and read the paper in less than one minute.

"What's this?" Sherlock mumbled. "Hamish Malcolm Holmes?"

"He said that you're his father so he took after our last name. The middle name is the name that I know you would prefer to choose for it is our grandfather's name. I know how fond you are of him." Mycroft laced his own fingers and placed his chin on top of them. "What are you going to do now, brother dear?"

"I'll meet John." Sherlock spoke with conviction no doubt or hesitation in his voice.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't believe he won't accept you into his life?"

"No. He may be furious and shock at first but I know he won't push me away when I am alive." Sherlock stared at the doctor's penmanship. "This proves to me of John's feelings."

"There is another blank space, next to John's name, all you have to do is sign and you'll be his new second guardian." Mycroft pulled out a fountain pen and handed it to Sherlock who took it.

He signed it with a flourish, he spoke no words as he handed his brother the paper.

"Good." Mycroft nodded at him approvingly. "At least mother won't be too worried about grandchildren when one of us accomplished that and of course the concern for the next Holmes line is secured to live on and not die in extinction."

"Imagine the face of our father if he were living when he found out about his grandchild's birth and his status as a half-blood." Sherlock smirked at his brother who shared the same sentiment.

"He will be rolling in his grave right about now." Mycroft mused as Sherlock chuckles darkly.

Mycroft's face went serious.

"Sherlock, I have news about the other side."

Mycroft recognized the look on his brother's face, telling him that Sherlock doesn't give a damn about their community, which is filled with bigotry arse-wipes.

"I know that you don't care, Sherlock, but it is best for you to update on the news regarding the Wizarding World seeing that my nephew is born a wizard."

"Obviously." Sherlock rolled his eyes at him.

"Eventually you have to tell John about it." Mycroft informed calmly.

"I know." Sherlock paused, thinking. "Does this mean with have to get married just to abide the laws of the Ministry of Magic?"

"Unless, you want John to be oblivate." Mycroft said sarcastically. "You know the rules Sherlock, if a witch or a wizard have a child with a muggle out of wedlock the witch or wizard must marry the muggle thus the truth of the existence of magic and to the community will be introduced to said muggle if fail to do so then the muggle must be oblivate, erasing all memories of the time with the wizard or witch from the muggle's mind as if nothing happened."

Sherlock frown harshly before agreeing knowing that he can't ignore the rules that the stupid Ministry made.

"Give me time, Mycroft." Sherlock told him. "I will abide the rules just give me and John time."

"You have all the time you need Sherlock but don't prolong it." Mycroft warned. "There is news that the Dark Lord was killed on Halloween night. The child, Harry Potter, was the only one survived from the massacre. Everyone in the community celebrated the defeat of the Dark Lord and the Savior of the Wizarding World, they named him the Boy-Who-Lived."

Sherlock snorts at the name.

"Imbeciles, the lot of them. Naming a child the Boy-Who-Lived? Where did they get all this ridiculous names? Are they trying to be clever? Well they make a shit-poor job of it. And what were they thinking in making the child a hero? They must be truly desperate to think that one child, an infant that can actually kill the Dark Lord, the most powerful man, besides Dumbledore, that ever existed in this timeline. For all we know it could've been the mother or the father who killed him! Gods, that's why I moved out from that world for they are all dull and nothing but shite people who are cowards unlike the muggles there are some decent people that are clever enough to entertain me. Hiding behind a child thinking the child will protect them from the big old scary Dark Lord, how pathetic can they be? It will be a nightmare for the child when he grows ups.

Sherlock finished his rant about the Wizarding world's ignorance and how he despised them for being fools with low-intelligence. Unlike the Muggles who held no magical power in them except for their knowledge and creativity they can make their own weapon of choice with the right tools and motivation and still not get tired of them. Muggles fascinate him. They are so different from Wizards but at the same time alike. But muggles are much better, and intelligent-wise than the ignorant wizards who prefers living the old ways instead of advancing.

The muggles despite lacking magic can make their own power of destruction and he had seen it all.

"What's more interesting, though, is the Dark Lord. Hm, there is something odd about this, why would the Dark Lord went for the Potters?"

"There was a prophecy about the child and the Dark Lord." Mycroft rubs his chin absentmindedly. "I do not know what the prophecy foretells but it has condemned the fated death of James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans. But what I do know is that it involves the offspring of the Potters. It must've explain about the two's destiny or it could be that Harry Potter is the only wizard who can stop Lord Voldemort."

"Ah yes, in order to secure his conquest he must eliminate the one thing that can get in his way." Sherlock scoff. "How simple and predictable the Dark Lord can be?"

"He is after all the villain in this story." Mycroft smile without humor.

"Every fairy tale needs an old fashioned villain." Sherlock spoke those words with no emotions.

Moriarty's ghost will never fade in their lives for he will linger into the world as long as they are alive to remember him.

"I believe that we are done?" Sherlock stood up.

"Yes, we are. Sherlock I believed that you need to rest for a couple of days just to replenish your health at least. We don't want to worry about you when it's your son's birthday in four days' time." Mycroft took out his phone and send a couple of texts to his people.

Sherlock opens his mouth, about to protest, but then he felt his bones groans feeling the ache in his muscle as he stood up to his full height. He was fully aware of his state of health.

"And please, eat, for god sake's, you look like someone suffers an anorexia." Mycroft tsk as he eyed his body with distaste.

Sherlock scowls at him before turning around to leave, sending Mycroft the message that he will follow his request.

Mycroft didn't move for a while until one of his subordinates appeared behind.

"I want you to keep an eye on my brother for now. Monitor his health as well. And please be a dear and tell Anthea to meet me soon after she escorted my brother to the hotel that I assigned for him."

"Yes, sir." The man disappeared with a soft pop.

Mycroft reach his silver fork and took a delicate bite on his Black Forest cake.

He sighed as the familiar taste washed over his senses, calming him. He made a mental note to lose weight the week after but right now he deserved this moment of weakness.

* * *

**Sherlock**

**Hamish's first birthday…**

Sherlock stood right in front of the door to 221b Baker St. He stared at the gold, slightly rusted door knob with the feeling of nervousness and excitement. Somewhere deep down, he felt apprehensive thinking that his calculating risk will backfire on him when John rejected him. The moment of doubt plague him since the night before he made the decision to surprise John on the day of Hamish's first birthday.

He inhales the chilly air before exhaling them out from his lungs.

He heard voices one that he was familiar with. The voice of John's laughter could be heard followed by Mrs. Hudson's voice, answering whatever John's request was.

He shift his body before deciding that he waited long enough as he move to open the door, unsurprised that it is unlock. Mrs. Hudson often forgets to lock the front door when she reaches her old age that slowly diminished her memory.

He softly closed the door behind, already memorized where the creaky steps are as he made his smooth way to the stairs undetected. He paused in front of the door that leads to John. Suddenly terrified to face him he resisted in running for he has made it this far and there was no going back, he made his choice to face him now.

"Thank you for your help, Mrs. H, the cake looks delicious." John's voice could be heard behind the dark emerald green door. Sherlock memorized the sound of it and placed it in his mind palace before he opens the door slowly, causing the door to creak, aware he was doing it purposely in order to catch their attention at the same time cutting off Mrs. Hudson's reply.

The two adults faced the door that opens wide enough to reveal the man that they thought dead.

Mrs. Hudson made a strangled sound before releasing a terrified shriek. At the sight of Sherlock standing before them was too much for her as she fainted. John instantly grabs her with quick reflex before she could hit the coffee table. He placed her on the couch carefully before standing up straight to stare disbelievingly at his dead flatmate.

"You…" John cleared his throat, looking pale as he shudders to take a deep breath. His right hand shakes terribly, revealing John's inner turmoil at the sight of him.

Sherlock blankly stared at Mrs. Hudson unconscious form. He then slowly moved his eyes to stare at John's dark blue one with an unreadable look. He gave John a small smile.

"Hello, John." Sherlock spoke softly, looking nervous all of a sudden before inhaling the smell of home and exhaling the air through his nose. "I'm home."

"_Sherlock_." John whispered his name like a prayer as he approached him. He stood right in front of him but not daring to touch him yet. Sherlock waited with baited breath, wide silver eyes stared right back at him. John could see the fear and hope shining in those eyes.

The first thing that John did was punched him on the cheek. Sherlock's body was forced to move backward, stumbling on his feet but he stop just in time, preventing his body from having another fall from the stairs. He steadies his body, reaching out to touch the wound on his face.

John pants as if he released a huge amount of adrenaline before he sobs. He reach out to grasps Sherlock's scarf and hugged him with all his might.

"You're_ alive_." John buried his face on his chest.

Sherlock stiffens but slowly he wrapped his arms around his friend.

"Welcome home." John whispered.

"Am I not too late?" Sherlock buried his face into John's cream color jumper resisting the urge to smell his unique man scent.

"No, you're on time." John said. "But that doesn't mean I am not pissed. I am pissed right now but since today is our son's birthday I am not going to ruined it by punching you again, by the way you deserve that."

"Of course." Sherlock smiled slightly when heard the word _our son_.

"And I need explanation in why the hell are you not dead."

"Of course."

"Good."

"Poor Mrs. Hudson though. I gave her quite a fright." Sherlock removed himself from John's embrace, however reluctantly, to observe the home that he longed for every day when he was away from John and his life before.

"Yeah, seeing you coming in, being all quite like a ghost, did that to you." John turned around to head towards Mrs. Hudson's prone form.

Sherlock took his chance to look around spotting a many changes. His chemistry set is gone seemed to him he's going to buy a new set, the bull's head had lost its head phone, his belongings, all his research are gone, thrown away or put away he wouldn't know unless he ask John about them. He walked towards the kitchen and open the refrigerator to find normal food, even his collection of human dead bodies aren't here, he'd have to make a new experiment again, damn all of his hard work gone. Finally he slowly walk towards his old room. He opens his door slowly and finding all his belongings untouched, even the bed is left the way it was.

Sherlock wasn't sure what to make of it but he knew that John didn't have the heart to touch everything that was his even if he was dead.

Then he noticed something wasn't right.

"Sherlock?" John's voice called out with a hint of fear mixing in them.

"I am here John." Sherlock hollered as he stared at his room with a weird expression on his face.

John came behind him looking relieved but worried.

"Is something wrong?"

Sherlock turned around to face him, a frown marred his face.

"John did you sleep in this room?" Sherlock asked him curiously for he spotted John's things separated from his own.

John blushed furiously, amusing Sherlock, as he struggles to explain.

"Well-, uhm I know it seemed like, err… wait you see when I moved in I have ah-, okay." John stutters before he stops and took a deep breath. "Sherlock there is something I have to tell you."

"Yes?" Sherlock stared at him calmly knowing what he was about to say but gave no inclination he knows any.

"I-I have a son." He smile sheepishly. "When I moved back to Baker St. I had to arrange my old room into a nursery room for my son and since I need a place to sleep I've been sleeping in your room claiming it as my own. But in my defense you were dead! So yeah, you can't judge me."

Sherlock chuckled. "I understand, John it is just, I am surprised you didn't change my room into a nursery one."

John lowered his head slightly. "I down want to change your room into something else because you deserved to be honored and remembered. I've kept it just the way it was, well there are some slight changes like my things for one, but everything else even your sock index is still there."

Sherlock was stunned.

"John." Sherlock soften his face as he reached out to touch his shoulder. "I am happy that you will do this for me even though I am dead. Thank you John for caring and I am sorry that my actions pained you."

John raised his head to study his face. He found something he didn't like when his eyes hardens.

"But you don't regret." They both winced at the accusation.

Sherlock paused, deciding for brutal honesty instead of lying. John deserves the truth after all.

"No, I don't John. But I did it to protect you."

John stared at him before he slumped as if the weight of the world burdens him.

"Knowing you, you always have a reason for doing some ridiculous thing, even faking your own death. I believed you."

John nodded at him as he headed towards the kitchen to pick up a kettle and poured some tea.

Sherlock eagerly take the tea from John's offered hand as he drinks them like he hadn't had a good drink in years.

John observed him silently taking in all the new details of his friend before smiling softly.

"Easy, Sherlock, there's more where that came from."

Sherlock removed the cup from his lips as he gave John his genuine smile, stunning him.

"You have no idea how longed I wanted tea that was made from you."

John blushed faintly as he shook his head, trying to be clear headed as possible. He noticed that Sherlock seemed different lately, he couldn't put his finger on it put there was something about him that made him feel flustered inside.

It's seems like Sherlock is flirting with him.

John brushed that thought aside. Idiot, just because you love that man that doesn't mean he returns the favor. He remembered that he's married to his work.

But the hope won't die when he realized that Sherlock is alive and God gave him the chance to change things.

"So, John, you don't think I would forget that single detail about us having a son." Sherlock casually spoke as he placed his cup on the sink.

John chuckles. "Stop pretending Sherlock, I know Mycroft told you."

Sherlock smiled at him impressed.

"Indeed he did." Sherlock spoke softly at him as he approach John's small form. "Including the reason why."

John paled as he stared Sherlock's silver eyes that sometimes cut through anything with just one look but right now he couldn't help but drown in those pools of silver, blue and gold. Sherlock's showed his emotions into his eyes, letting John see what he feels.

He may not regret his actions but he regret the hurt that he left behind as a mark that he disgustingly found himself being proud of and possessive over knowing it was him who mark him.

He marked John Watson's heart and he relished it.

"He told you that." Sherlock listened to John's whispered words. Fear and anger flashed in those expressive dark blues eyes.

"None of that, John." Sherlock whispered back to him. "It is over now. I am here and so his your son."

John was quite.

They stared one another as if hypnotize. They couldn't help but study each other's feature, trying to remember them and put them in their minds as a souvenir, a reminder that the other is alive and well.

Then they both heard Mrs. Hudson's groans.

"Oh, dear, John? What happened?"

John signaled Sherlock to stay, telling him not to reveal himself to her unless they want her to faint again, as he move quickly to her side breaking the news slowly for her.

"Mrs. H, are you alright? How are you feeling?"

"I could've sworn I saw him, John." Mrs. Hudson turned to face him. "I saw him! He's alive! Have I gone mad, John?"

"Mrs. H I need for you to calm down." John reaches out for her hands and grasped them. "Listen Mrs. H what you saw is real. Sherlock is alive. I saw him too."

Mrs. Hudson stared at John looking confused but relived. "Sherlock's alive?"

"I am alive and healthy, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock made his grand entrance.

Mrs. Hudson's eyes gone wide as she stared at the once dead consultant.

John tensed, expecting her to faint but what he and Sherlock didn't expect for her is that she ran towards him, hugging him for dear life. A sob broke from her as she cried into Sherlock mumbling you're alive, oh Sherlock.

Sherlock tensed for just a second before embracing their land lady and surrogate mother who love him and John as if they were her own sons.

"It's alright Mrs. H." Sherlock kissed her cheek.

Then it struck John as he realized what made Sherlock different.

Sherlock seemed human to him. He's expressing the right human emotions as he slowly calms Mrs. Hudson down. Sherlock's showed his human side to him and her, he is no longer the cold hearted machine he knew but good man with a good heart.

Whatever happened Sherlock for the past three years something changed him and he will soon going to find out.

"I am happy that you're safe and alive Sherlock." Sherlock bend down so that she could give him a kiss. And dear, oh my, whatever happened to you for the past few years, deary, you've grown so skinny! Let me bake you something to eat."

With that Mrs. Hudson left to run to her room and bake something for Sherlock to eat.

Sherlock didn't get the change to reject her offer for she left in quite a rush.

Then, as if on cue, the baby from upstairs cried, bringing John and Sherlock to his attention.

"Do you want to meet him Sherlock?" John took Sherlock's hand as they both walk towards to John's old room.

Sherlock silently followed John as he opens his room to reveal the nursery room. The walls been covered with blue and green paint, the background of looks like it came out from a fairy tale for he can see different mythical creatures on each side of the walls. There are also drawings of forest, clouds and a waterfall, whoever painted this must be a good artist. It couldn't be John for he doesn't have the artistic talent in except writing his stories about their adventure.

He continues to observe the room. He noticed stuff animals were also placed to the side, a pirate chest box for toys, baby books inside their respective shelves, a baby monitor on top of the dresser and of course a baby stuffs for changing diapers.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at that.

Then at the center of it all is his old baby crib. The wooden design was made by man and magic. He stepped close to see the markings etched on the rails. The traced the vine like veins and touch their family insignia with his finger tip.

Their family insignia is shaped like an H with the tree of life behind the one letter.

His attention immediately drawn to the crying babe. John instantly was beside him as he bends down to pick him. Sherlock stared at them with fascination. The child looks exactly like him except for the blue eyes staring at him curiously.

"Hamish, son, meet your real father, Sherlock." John pecks his son's cheek as he giggles.

Sherlock admired the beautiful sound that he produced. "He is not just my son, John, but also yours."

John just smiled at him. "You want to hold him?"

Sherlock look afraid for a fraction of a second before he declines.

"Aw, c'mon it's easy! Here let me help. You got to hold his head a bit to balance the weight."

Sherlock tried to get away but John already dumped Hamish into his arms. John helped him properly placed his hands on their respective places to hold the baby in his arms correctly.

"There!" John laughs. "You're a natural."

Sherlock looks at him fearfully before starring at his son when he felt him tap his face.

"His cataloguing your face. I think he takes after you." John mused. "He's a curious little thing."

Sherlock studied him, ignoring John for the moment as he studied his own son.

Seeing that Sherlock is busy John can't help but feel complete. Sherlock is alive and he finally had his wish come true. He'd been wishing deep inside his heart that Sherlock would have the chance to meet Hamish if he were alive but what he didn't expect is that Sherlock would be alive.

They really need to talk about this.

It doesn't matter now, when Sherlock has returned to them. He suddenly laughs to himself, capturing the attention of two identical faces of father and son staring at him questioningly.

He realized that Hamish first gift was Sherlock on his birthday.

"Hey John, mate! You home?" Sherlock and John glance at the door that leads to downstairs when they heard Greg Lestrade's voice.

John forgot the people he invited for his son's birthday.

Sherlock smirked at him, mischief radiates his form. John raised an eyebrow amusingly, sensing his idea in scaring every one of their friends as he announces his presence to them.

The game is on.

* * *

**Sherlock**

**Authors note: **I am going to move fast forward okay? So we could get on with the story. In the next chapter John and Sherlock already sorted out with their issues, the trust builds slowly with the help of little Hamish, and they got a civil union both muggle and magical, no weddings. Then John found out Sherlock is a wizard and so is his son and Hamish got his first letter. In chapter four, Hamish is in his third year. Mycroft consults Sherlock in doing his job by becoming the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher instead of Lupin and John being the new Muggles Studies teacher (he will have no magic but he was given with a magical item that could protect him from any harmful spells, not a wand, and also using it to attack when needed).

Maybe a magical ring perhaps? Or his gun that is loaded with magical properties that could kill any dangerous dark creatures? I'll think of something XD

Don't worry, Harry will be showing on the next chapter. Promise.


	4. School Day!

**I am Best friend's with Hamish Holmes**

**By Ise**

**Pairing: **Sherlock/John

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Sherlock BBC and Harry Potter

**Authors note: **Hey, guys. I have read your reviews and I know some people are excited about Harry Potter's entrance into the story, well how lucky you are! For you finally get to see him now, all your patience had been paid off. And of course, I heard about my past and future tense mixed up, I apologize, I blame my laziness for that. I'll try to clean that one up so it will be readable and bearable for you to enjoy (key-word; try). Thank you for faving and following this story. So without further ado, here comes chapter four.

* * *

**School day!**

**Chapter four**

Today was the day for the younger Holmes to finally go to Hogwarts.

"Daddy, I can't find my chemistry set!" Eleven year old Hamish Holmes called out from his room.

John opened the door of his son's room to see him running around looking frantic before diving into his closet as he tries to find his chemistry set. John glanced around the room taking note of the mess.

"Did you try the lab?"

Hamish paused in his search as he thought about it. He shook his head as he stands up to his full height which made him look taller for an eleven year old. John could tell that Hamish will have Sherlock's tall lean figure when he grows up, he can see it now.

"I didn't!" John shook his head, amused at his son's energetic and bubbly personality, so different from Sherlock's aloofness and distant personality.

Hamish ran past his dad as he stomped his way down the stairs, meeting his other father with the key in his hand. Hamish took it silently before dashing down to another flight of stairs to get to 221c.

John picked up Hamish's trunk that held all his necessary items. He expected it to be heavy but to his surprise he can carry it with his right hand easily.

"A feather-light charm, very effective." Sherlock's smooth baritone voice attracted John's attention. "Now, you won't be struggling with the heavy weight of it and at the cost of bothering your shoulder."

John could see Sherlock's smirked as he twirled his barberry wand with Thestral tail hair as its core.

"Thanks, Sherlock." John smiled at him as they both went down the stairs.

He stared at his husband's tall lean form with love in his eyes.

Yes, you heard him right.

Husband, John Watson was now married to Sherlock Holmes for the past ten years.

Ten years ago, John couldn't expect himself to see this as his future, if he told his past self that he's married to his best friend, who turns out to be a magical being, his past self would laugh at him, thinking that he's gone crazy.

Sadly it wasn't a joke.

But here he is, now married to one Sherlock Holmes were he discovered the biggest secret in the world; the existence of another Magical World. They got married a month after Hamish first birthday and the re-introduction of Sherlock Holmes Alive to the world, when John discovered of a family long-kept secret.

The Ancient Holmes family was a family of magical people that called themselves wizards (witches to the females).

Yes, wizards exist and that includes magic.

His first reaction was that he was surprise but he wasn't affected at all, not too much. He was still in love with the mad man that he'd married and with the thing about magic, he just brushed it aside as another quirk that made him Sherlock. Although, seeing that magic exist it was a difficult thing to swallow in regards to believing it since he never believed in them in the first place.

So, seeing John who was having troubles in accepting magic into their lives, Sherlock took joy in exploiting it by showing off his magical abilities that he hadn't use in decades. The surprise look on John's face when he cast his first spell was worth it. Sherlock enjoyed sharing John about his other world. He even lend John his schoolbooks when he was a student of Beauxbaton from 1st year to 2rd year, Dumstrang from 3rd year to 4th year, and 5th year to 7th year from Hogwarts (Sherlock loved to stir up trouble because he was so bored he got kicked out from two of his previous school but continued his studies in Hogwarts till he graduate), the history of his people, and finally introducing him to the world of magic.

John was flattered and happy that Sherlock introduced him to his world that he didn't know about and wasn't aware that it existed. He now felt closer to the younger man than ever and finally understood something about him.

The day came when Hamish shared Sherlock's magical trait (he blew up all the light bulbs in the room when he was teething), they talked about Hogwarts, a magical school in Scotland. John learned a lot from Sherlock and Mycroft (who was surprisingly active in regards to raising Hamish into a proper Pure-blood heir, which Sherlock resented him for that) about the system and their government.

Especially about the Statue of Secrecy.

He was glad that he agreed to marry if he hadn't then his memories would be wiped clean from him. There were some of the things that confused him though, like the magical culture itself, but he eventually caught up to the going on's around the other world, even though he's not a magical being he still managed to update himself to understand better of Sherlock's world.

Including knowing more about magical schools.

After that first magical outburst, John read about Hogwarts and the other schools from France and Norway. He read that Hogwarts was the best in Britain but was in the lowest in regards of magical education.

John was uncertain. He wanted to give Hamish the best education that was given to him but seeing that the two Holmes brothers teaching Hamish everything there was to know of both dark and light magic, John believed that there was no need for such concern in regards to education. John can safely say this to himself that they were the best teachers that he'd known when it comes to magic. He can now agreed that sending Hamish to Hogwarts was okay and besides, Hogwarts was famous to have Albus Dumbledore, who was a powerful man that defeated the Dark Lord Grindelwald since WWII, as their Headmaster.

After all, John wouldn't be happy if Hamish wasn't anywhere near Britain.

"Hamish, everything all set?" John asked when he spotted his son going up the stairs with his chemistry set in hand.

"Almost." Hamish unclasped the lock to open his trunk and carefully placed his chemistry set inside. He plucked out his walnut wand that shares the same core as his father from his pocket to spell the chemistry set to be unbreakable.

"Got your mobile with you?" Sherlock asked as he tied his purple scarf around his neck.

"Yup!" Hamish grinned at his father. "I can't wait to test this baby out!"

"You sure it will work Sherlock? I remembered you telling me about the school having wards that cuts off technology." John looked at him as they all headed down the stairs were Mycroft's car parked ready.

"We will have to see, now won't we, John?" Sherlock smiled.

Hamish smiled at the driver that opened the door. He stepped in followed by his parents. The door was closed and together they all head out to King Cross Station.

"Now, Hamish I want you to do your best in class and make new friends, okay?" John was the first to speak as they drive.

"Of course, dad." Hamish nodded as he played his Black I-phone.

Sherlock scoffed. "Friends? Why would he need friends? Knowing those children they will be as bigoted as their parents."

"You don't need to say that, Sherlock." John frowned at him. "Hamish's going to have fun at his new school and he will make wonderful friends and-."

John paused and then he glanced at his son. "Make sure the friends that you make are not out to kill you."

Hamish rolled his eyes, feeling exasperate at his dad's concern.

"Don't worry, dad, I'll be fine." Hamish reassured him. "And I'll be careful in choosing my friends."

"Instead of making friends, why not try making enemies? Better yet, an arch-enemy." John rolled his eyes at that.

"Not all of them can have arch-enemies in real life, Sherlock."

"And, uncle Mycroft doesn't count, papa."

"You'll never know." Sherlock smiled amusingly at them. "If you do planned to make friends, please make sure they are not boring."

Sherlock looked thoughtfully before catching John's eye. "Unless, your friends are like John, which I doubt of course."

"Because, I am one of a kind." John held Sherlock hand, squeezing it as a way of showing his affection.

Hamish shook his head at their display.

"We're here, Mr. Holmes." The driver spoke with a dull tone.

Hamish was so excited he was the first one to be out of the car. The two adults followed their dashing son as he tries to find the secret wall that would lead to 9 and ¾.

A family of redheads was chatting quite loudly, John took notice of. He couldn't help but listen to their conversation and to his surprise they are talking about the secret wall.

"Hey, Sherlock, let's ask them if they know about 9 and ¾." John told Sherlock who was staring intently at Hamish, making sure they don't lose sight of him.

"There's no need, John. I know where the hidden wall is." Sherlock suddenly quicken his steps. "Let's not dawdle too long John, come along."

John followed Sherlock's quick strides; he forgot that Sherlock studied at Hogwarts before.

Hamish was checking the signs, looking for the hidden wall when he accidentally crash into someone's trolley which conveniently belong to one Harry Potter.

The ruckus caught the attention of both John and Sherlock.

"Oh my gosh!" Hamish gasped out as he tries to help gather the boy's things. "I am so sorry!"

The boy with messy hair and vivid green eyes that were protected with his round glasses stared at the other boy with a shy smile.

"It's okay. It's my fault that I didn't see you." The boy, which we all know it is Harry, picked up the cage were the screeching owl was trashing around.

"No, it's my fault I was too busy looking for 9 and ¾ that I neglect to look at my surroundings."

Harry looked surprise.

"You're also looking for 9 and ¾?"

Suddenly Hamish smiled.

"Yeah! Hey if you know about it does that mean you're…" Hamish moved closer to Harry as he whispered in his ear. "You're a _wizard_?"

Harry feeling excited nodded his head at him. He gave him a huge grin.

"I am!" Harry whispered to him quickly as he giggled with excitement.

"Oh wow! So am I! My name is Hamish Holmes and you are?" Hamish extended his hand to shake.

Harry shyly grasp it firmly and shake their hands.

"My name is Harry Potter."

"It seemed you made a friend, Hamish." Sherlock appeared out of nowhere as he hovered over the two boys. Behind him, John was helping gathering Harry's remaining things.

"Here, kid, your stuff." John smiled kindly at him as he pushed the trolley towards him.

"Oh," Harry blushed as he avoided eye contact from them. He accepted the handle of his trolley and moved it to his side. "Thank you."

Instantly, John studied the child's small figure noticing some things like how skinny the boy is or how he avoided both physical and eye contact. John noted those were all the signs of abuse but he doesn't have enough solid proof to prove his theory yet.

"Who's your friend, Hamish?" John glanced at Sherlock at the corner of his eye trying to see if he's given any information about this new kid.

"Dad, Pa, meet Harry Potter! I made a friend, my first friend ever!" Hamish, the physically affectionate type of person that he is, slings his arm around the thinner boy's neck bringing their bodies close. John couldn't help but feel amused as he stared at them, looking like brothers since their appearance nearly match.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the other boy. He nodded his head slightly in a sort of greeting, already deducing his home life.

"Yes, well how convenient out of all the boys that you made friends with you somehow managed to find this one instead." Sherlock spoke in his smooth baritone voice, making him sound mysterious and knowing.

John raised an eyebrow, looking at him questioningly. Sherlock ignored John's look as he tilt his head up. He spotted the two signs and when he looked behind them there was a wall.

"Hamish, now, can you sense something?" Sherlock suddenly asked.

"Oh? Ahm…" Startled Hamish scrambles to think before he closed his eyes as his papa told him once when trying to sense something that not even his eyes could see. He felt a shimmer from behind and to his excitement he blurted out the words. "It's the entrance!"

He turns around to examine the wall, touching it, feeling the almost real-like structure, he poke and probe noticing that the brick walls felt real but he could also feel the magic flowing around underneath his fingertips.

"You found it already?" surprised but proud, John glanced at his watch. "We have ten minutes to spare so how are we going to get through?"

Harry was surprise at the pale man and at his new friend then he shyly glance at the other blond man who he deemed is friendly.

"Maybe we could run through it?" Harry said ducking his head when all their eyes look at him with curiosity.

"Interesting." Sherlock murmured as he stared at the boy and he realized that the rumors in regarding about the boy's personality and his upbringings were all false. He didn't believed them of course knowing how full of crap the Daily Prophet was but without enough sufficient evidence to prove the Prophet wrong then how would he know? But seeing the Boy-Who-Lived right before his eyes, how obviously he suffered from the maltreatment from his relatives, he mentally raised his eyebrow as he questioned Dumbledore's motives.

"You are not stupid as I thought you are." Sherlock bluntly said as he held out Hamish's trunk to John. "But you are correct."

"Sherlock." John sighed, how typical of him to add his compliments with insults.

Harry's eyes gone wide hearing his words. Hamish patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"Don't worry, Papa means you're smart."

Harry glanced at him with worry.

"You sure?"

"Yeah! He's just like that cos' he's trying to be cool." He giggled at the look on Sherlock's face.

"I do not." He raised his nose at them. John cracked a smile.

"Sure, you do luv." John laughed softly.

"See?" Hamish whispered to Harry.

"Oh, okay." Harry still not sure how to feel about this but he agreed with him anyway.

"Now what we're you saying about running through a wall?" John eyed the wall suspiciously. "It looks real to me. And solid too."

"That is exactly what we're going to do." Sherlock clapped his hands as he suddenly grinned.

* * *

**Sherlock**

When Hamish and Harry boarded up the train they managed to find an empty compartment. Hamish poked his head out from the window to wave at his parents as the train whistled and moved. He waved them goodbye until he no longer see their small forms. Hamish removed his head from the window to turn to smile at Harry who was sitting across from him.

"So, you're Harry Potter, huh." Hamish starts.

Harry looked slightly confused. "Of course I am, you know that."

"Uh-huh, I bet I know loads about you than just your name." Hamish grinned at him but then gotten all shy. "Er, unless you want to know of course."

Curious, Harry shrugged as he gave a small grin. "Okay, then. Tell me what you know about me."

Hamish looked worried and anxious.

"Are you sure? Promise you won't get mad?" Hamish demanded.

"Why would I get mad when I asked for it?"

"Alright," Hamish narrowed his eyes at him trying to see if he is going to lie and back down on his word. When he didn't see anything that might suggest of it Hamish took a deep breath. "You are Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. The boy who survived the killing curse from the Dark Lord at the age of one, Witches and Wizards believed you to be a hero, you're a celebrity."

Harry was nodding slowly, unsure but remembering Hagrid's words he knows what Hamish was saying was true.

"But." Hamish paused as he stared at Harry with cold silver-green eyes. "What they do not know is that you're living with your relatives who are abusive to you."

Harry froze.

"Seeing the state of your body you are suffering from malnourishment and the clothes that you are wearing, those were hand-me downs from your obese cousin. You are also being physically abuse by your uncle, nothing major but seeing the small faded bruises in some certain areas suggested that your uncle had no problems in hurting you as long as he knows which places that would be hidden from public. Nobody would see them, he made sure of that, but what he doesn't expect is you meeting with my papa and I, for we can see every little thing. My dad can tell cos' he's a doctor."

Harry was having difficulties in breathing as he digests the words. How could he have known all of that? By just looking?

Hamish look uncertain but hearing the silence he continues his deductions.

"Thinking about your family's relations only your aunt who was related to your mother, judging how she ignored your suffering suggested jealousy in her part. Maybe she's jealous that her sister had magic while she doesn't, making her sister special. Through her hate she supports her husband's and son's actions. Yes, your cousin bullies you; it's pretty obvious now, like father and son. Harry? Oh gosh! I am sorry!"

Harry couldn't control the terror that was showing on his face or the tears gathering around his eyes.

Hamish looked guilty when he saw him crying softly. He knew that his deductions can hurt people and he didn't mean to make him cry! His daddy always warned him that there are some people who won't take lightly about him deducing people. He was hoping Harry would be different.

"No, no—its." Harry sniffed a little, feeling quite ashamed of himself for crying in front of him.

Hamish stood up as he approached him. He gathered Harry into his arms and hugged him fiercely. "I am sorry, daddy always tells me that my deductions hurt people for there are some people who can't accept the truth or having someone knowing their secrets."

Hamish wiped Harry's tears. "I can't help it when I see these things. For people see but do not observe. I observed everything about you that I need to know."

Harry nods.

"No, no, Hamish it's my fault. Sorry. I-I… ahh, didn't expect someone to know more about me. I am surprised and amazed that you know all that by just looking. And yeah, it hurts to think that. Knowing that you know about it makes me feel embarrassed." Harry explained as he pushed Hamish slightly to stare at him better. "I am not mad, upset, yeah, but not for long. I am surprise about your cool skill though."

"Really?" Hamish looked uncertain. "You're not going to stop being my friend?"

"What? No! You're my friend, Hamish! And I think your mad skills are brilliant!"

"You think it's brilliant?"

"Yeah!" Harry hugged him. "Sorry I overreacted a little."

Hamish hugged him back, feeling relieved that he didn't lose someone. "It's okay. It is expected of your reaction. We're still friends though, right?"

Harry laughed softly. "Yeah we're still friends."

"Cool."

Hamish sat next to Harry feeling contented. Harry wiped away the remaining tears from his face as he turned to Hamish, smiling at him with a big grin on his face. His red eyes and pink nose are the only evidence that he'd been crying. They started small talk and soon Harry asked some things that relates to Hamish personal interest as they get to know one another better. An hour of the ride past, the compartment door suddenly opens to reveal a chubby boy looking quite out breath asking if they see a Trevor.

Hamish glanced at the boy and in seconds he told him that there's no toad here but try going to the third compartment. Stunned at the quick but sharp words, Neville Longbottom stared at him before saying his soft thanks and left, closing the door behind him.

Harry instantly asked questions about his deductions which Hamish happily explained it to him.

Between the two of them, this is a start of a beautiful friendship.

* * *

**Sherlock**

Hamish and Harry stepped out from the train and followed the other first years. Hamish gripped Harry's hand, who blushed slightly in embarrassed but a small quirk of his lips suggested that he enjoyed the contact of it and the feeling of his friend's hand that was squeezing them reassuringly made him feel happy.

Together, they followed the half-giant's call "First Years!"

"Look Harry," Hamish pointed at the lake were small boats gathered. "A giant tentacle is poking out."

Harry touched his glasses to adjust them to get a better look of the appendage that sprouted out from the lake.

"How can you see that far?" Harry asked Hamish, disbelief and admiration mixed into his tone. "Do you have like sharp eyes or something?"

Hamish chuckles. "Pretty much. I can really see that very far. Good for observing people even to the smallest of details."

"You got to teach me one of these days." Harry and Hamish walked behind a girl with bushy hair.

"It takes years of practice, my friend, but I know you can do it too, all you have to do is use your eyes better than just seeing."

They stopped as Hagrid herded the children to the boats. The two boys managed to share the same boat with the girl who has bushy hair and the other boy that they met before who was looking for Trevor (his pet toad). They set sail into the night. The sky was dark and the moon was full, the only light source that they had is their respective lanterns and the light of the moon and stars. A boy gasped out as he shouted the word 'giant squid' capturing everyone's attention, except the bushy haired girl, Hamish and Harry, who were already aware of its existence. The chattering was quite when they reached the castle.

Everyone was stunned into silence as they admired the beauty of the ancient gothic castle.

Hogwarts at last.

When they reached the shore an old woman with a green hat greeted them with a stiff lip. Her eyes were covered with her golden spectacles but as Hamish observed he took note of the way they turn to slits when Hagrid handed the lantern to the old woman. Possibly an animagus, Hamish thought, interest peaked.

"Professor McGonagall." Hagrid greeted happily to her.

The green hat witch nodded politely at him.

"Here are the first years."

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take care of the rest. First years follow me." Professor McGonagall turned her back to them and went inside. The children hurriedly followed her, not wanting to get lost inside the obviously huge castle.

Hamish and Harry listened attentively as the Professor give her speech about the Four Houses when she finished she told her future students to wait till they were called as the Sorting was about to begin. She left right after that, leaving the children to start talking among themselves.

Hamish took the chance to asked Harry about the Houses.

"So, Harry, what house do you think the Sorting Hat will put you?" Hamish leaned his back to rest on the stone railings.

"Houses?" Harry looked thoughtful. "I think I am going to be Gryffindor."

"Why?" Hamish looked curious of his answer.

Harry gave him a small smile. "Because my parents were Gryffindors."

"Oh." Hamish was silent for a bit, then. "But that doesn't mean that you're going to be Gryffindor just because your reasons are your parents."

"Why not?" Harry looked at him confused and a bit of hurt.

"Because, your parents are Gryffindors but that doesn't automatically make you one. It's actually depends on the characteristics that you have for the Hat to decide on what house you're going to be in."

"But I want to be in Gryffindor. My parents were one and-" Harry argued but was cut off when Hamish grasped his thin shoulders.

"Harry, you're your own person, you cannot follow the shadow of your parents. They've been great before but they died in the war but you, I know you will do better than them. So make a difference, be different from what your parents, and I bet the people in the Wizarding World, expected you to be. I know that there's this certain pressure that has been bothering you for awhile. Don't ask me how I know when you know the answer."

Harry stared into the silver-green eyes looking lost and unsure.

"But I want them to be proud of me." Harry whispered.

Hamish brought their faces closer as he whispered. "They are your parents, they died to protect you, whatever your House will be and whatever person you're going to be, they will love you no less. Whatever decision you make, they will be proud of you for who you are."

Harry's eyes widen at the heavy emotions that Hamish put in his words. The raw feeling of certainty of it banished whatever remaining insecurities that he had been feeling since he stepped on the train.

"And besides," Hamish leaned away as he winks at him. "You don't know them that well. You only heard stories of them so how would you know what they think of you?"

The seriousness faded just like that.

"Yeah, you're right." Harry shook his head. "What about you Hamish? What House do you think you're going to be in?"

"Maybe Ravenclaw."

"Oi." Both boys turned to face a boy with blond hair that was slick with some sort of gel. "I've heard that the Great Harry Potter is schooling this year. Are you him?"

They could feel the arrogance radiated from the blond.

Hamish stepped in. "What makes you so sure?"

"I heard you called him Harry." The pale blond kid smirked, catching almost everyone's attention when they heard the famous Harry Potter. "And I couldn't help but listened to your touching conversation. It wasn't that difficult to figure it out the rest."

Hamish mentally cursed himself. _A Malfoy_. Of all the people that he's going to face, why _a Malfoy_?

"Yeah, I am." Harry spoke, his face blank sensing Hamish displeasure.

"My name's Draco Malfoy." Harry eyed the hand that was been offered. "I am going to be Slytherin, and I would like to say do be careful around some certain group of people that you hang around with if you want to make it through the rest of your seven years peacefully. So why not leave this loser and hang with me. Instead of making friends with mudbloods, try making friends with people who are worthy."

Hamish raised an eyebrow as he took the hand suddenly, squeezing it tightly, surprisingly, with force.

"Nice to meet you, Malfoy. My name is Hamish _Holmes_ and for your information I am Half-Blood. Do your research properly." Hamish grinned at him which is not nice by the way.

Draco froze at the last name before he glared at him. He wretched his hand from the other boy's tight grip.

"A Holmes?" Draco frowned as he carefully said his words, remembering his father's stories about the Holmes family and how he advised him to be on their good sides. "Well, then, nice to meet you."

Hamish raised an eyebrow at him. _Interesting._ "Please, refrain from saying _mudblood _with such distaste around me. I have a muggle father, whom I am proud of, mind you. We don't want to have some sort of misunderstanding, don't we?"

Draco scowled at him knowing that he's facing a losing battle. "I _apologize_."

Hamish stared at him from up and down. "I say, Malfoy, should I call you Draco? Draco, you may be raised spoiled and sheltered, courtesy by your mother apparently, but you do have some potential in you that seemed redeemable."

"Oh?" Draco looked at him suspiciously, but preened at the compliment when he heard one.

"Why not let us be friends?" Hamish smiled coldly at him.

"Hamish?" Harry questioned, confused at his sudden changed in demeanor.

"Harry! How rude of you! Why not introduce yourself to our new friend?" Hamish slings his arm around the boy's very thin neck. He smiled at him reassuringly as he cock his head to the side.

Uncertain, Harry doesn't know what's going on in that head of his but he waved at Draco and said; "Hi, I'm Harry Potter which you already know."

Draco internally struggle at the sudden loss of power. He lost control of the situation as he was unexpectedly faced the nephew of the most well-known and powerful man with strong connections not just in the muggle world but also in the wizarding world.

Father told him all about Mycroft Holmes. How he was the only powerful wizard, possibly in equal powerful with the Dark Lord, that has the means to rule the world if he wanted to do. His father had also told him about Mycroft's influence in both muggle and wizarding government. His father even mentioned about a brother who married a muggle.

He recalled his father telling him about a nephew that Mycroft deemed him heir to the Holmes Ancestry.

And that nephew is Hamish Holmes.

Draco decided that it is better to stick as 'friends' instead of enemies with the Holmes boy. Draco eyed the-boy-who-lived. He secretly admitted to himself that he was a fan, dreaming about meeting him for the first time, thinking about being best friends with him. And now…

"Draco Malfoy, a pleasure." Draco said in a pure-blood tone that he was raised to be.

Maybe he finally got something that would please his father.

At least he has friends that mummy would love to hear about in the letter.

* * *

**Sherlock**

**Three years later before September the 1st…**

Mycroft walked towards the entrance that would lead to Professor Dumbledore's office. Some of the paintings were starring at Mycroft with horrified looks, believing him to be a muggle that managed to slip into the castle because of his attire while others starring at him with recognition.

Behind him were Professor McGonagall and his assistant, Anthea.

Mycroft paused in his walk as he waited for the Professor to speak the password. Professor McGonagall walked forward, trying to ignore the cold looks of the powerful man that she'd wanted to avoid any form of confrontation. While she said the password in a clear confident voice she wonders why this man is here in Hogwarts.

What are Mycroft Holmes intentions?

Well, it all started from the letters that he'd received from his favorite nephew. His nephew apparently befriended the-boy-who-lived and the Malfoy heir, an odd sort of mixed between the so-called savior and the son of the Death Eater (Yes, he knows Malfoy's secret, obviously). Together, they've been in all sorts of trouble. As interesting as it was to find that he's nephew enjoying himself with his 'adventures' but he cannot ignore the fact that Albus Dumbledore let these dangerous situation happened for the past two years.

Although from reading the letters, Mycroft had been updating from the happenings between the Savior and the Malfoy heir. Including, finding out about Harry's parselmouth ability and the Malfoy's sudden possession about a particular book that had dark magic which inhabits a memory of a young man that he believed to be _the_ Tom Riddle Jr., the first Horucrux (Yes, Mycroft knows about that, too).

To his greatest interest, Mycroft found out the strange connection between the scar on Harry's head and the supposedly dead Dark Lord.

Which is why, he is now here in Hogwarts to question about Dumbledore's motives.

Mycroft was not blind to see the manipulation that he's been playing since the beginning.

When the statue twitched at the command it jumps to reveal a stairway.

"Thank you, Professor. You're service has been fulfilled; you are no longer required to linger. Goodbye."

McGonagall twitched but said nothing as she watched the wizard dressed in muggle clothing and his assistant walked up until the statue lowers itself down to its position.

McGonagall just stood there thinking, so many questions that are left unanswered, before turning to head for her office.

Upstairs, the Headmaster sense the magical signature of one Mycroft Holmes. With a wave of his hand, he seamlessly used wandless magic to open the door.

Mycroft step in with his fellow assistant, who was equal in power as Bellatrix. Dumbledore felt slightly troubled when his magic silently touched the female's magical aura that surrounds her. To his great relief, her loyalty is bound to Mycroft and his family, no one else.

Anthea glanced up to stare at him in the eye and to his great surprise her mind was completely blank, no traces of thought anywhere. Dumbledore noticed the smirked from the woman's lips making Dumbledore worried.

"Albus." Mycroft spoke in a business like tone.

"Mycroft, hello my boy, what brings you here to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore smiled at him like a grandfather would do to his grandson.

"I am here to talk to you about my nephew." Mycroft snapped his fingers and suddenly a grand chair that is fit for a king materialized right beside him.

Impressive. Dumbledore thought to himself remembering how much power that one Mycroft Holmes holds.

"Ah, the younger Holmes. Your nephew is a genius just like his father and uncle. He aced every test available and it seemed that he find himself a bit bored at the lack of challenged."

"Ever thought of giving my nephew an advance year?" Mycroft said.

"Oh, we offered but he refused, saying that he doesn't want to be separate with his friends." Dumbledore rubs his white beard thinking. "Speaking of friends, do you find it odd that young Hamish is friends with young Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy?"

"Never bothered. Why? Are you?" Dumbledore noticed how Mycroft studied him when he said this.

Dumbledore smiled at him nonetheless. "Oh, no, I am just happy that Hamish has friends that he can call his own. It is amazing how three children who are in three different houses managed to stay friends, this is what we all need, house unity."

"Yes, it's nice isn't it?" Mycroft crossed his legs as he placed his hands on the arm seat. "You know why I am here, Albus? I am not here to talk about my nephew's time in school. I am here to question you about the plans that you've been brewing for quite some time."

His assistant grabs her blackberry phone and starts typing away. Dumbledore frowned, not recognizing the item but knowing its muggle made technology. Amazing, that it's still functioning despite being inside the walls of Hogwarts were magic managed to disabled all forms of technology.

"Mycroft I do not understand. What are you trying to say?"

Mycroft stared at him coldly. "These past two years, all these 'accidents' that Hamish and his friends faced, you think I am stupid to not recognize what you were trying to do?"

Dumbledore didn't say anything.

"You've been using these opportunity to train the boy. You let him faced such dangerous task, you're preparing him for war at the cost of endangering my nephew's life."

Dumbledore sighed.

"Stop. I know what you mean. It is true that these 'accidents,' if you prefer, were all for Harry's training. I want him to be prepared when facing the final inevitable between the Dark Lord."

"At the cost of my nephew's and his friends life?" Mycroft said in a quite but dangerous tone. "You know I do not approve of this?"

"I assure you, Mycroft that everything is all according to plan. No harm will befall on your nephew, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy."

"I do not trust you, Albus." Mycroft stood up. "For you have the tendency to ignore the people all around, you are too focus of your 'greater good plan.'"

Anthea unlock the suitcase that she'd been carrying to pluck out two document papers and handed them to Mycroft.

Dumbledore didn't dare make a comment as he watched Mycroft read the papers briefly before slowly approaching him.

"Here are the papers I need for you to fill them up. Since you fail in stopping every dangerous situation that had been happening in the past two years resulting my nephew's near death, I am in charge of assigning someone to guard and watch over him, especially when news of an escape convict is on the loose, I will not take any risks to my chosen heir."

Dumbledore was resigned to not disobey the powerful man. He can see that there's no way out of this.

"Although, I understand the need to prepare the perfect weapon I will let you continue what you were doing as long as nothing happens that would end them dead." Mycroft said in his cold tone, making him sound so heartless, not even thinking about the life of young Harry will lose if he left it at that. "Since Harry's under Hamish protection and Hamish is my heir…"

Dumbledore can feel the threat from his words, despite his words being cold and unfeeling Mycroft still cared for Hamish's friends.

"I understand." Dumbledore nods his head before lowering his eyes to read the papers in his hands. Dumbledore raised a questioning eyebrow. "Is this?"

"I want them to be your new professors of DADA and Muggle Studies."

Dumbledore doesn't like this. He was planning on hiring Remus to be the new DADA so that he can sway Harry more into his side but…

"I can see that you're upset." Mycroft smirked. "This is the reason why. I hate your style in manipulation but I cannot deny that it is useful. It is perfect, your plan to persuade Harry into knowing more about his parents but I cannot let this continue when we both know that Remus Lupin is a werewolf. He does not have enough self-control in him to keep the wolf at bay. No, he lacks of it ninety-one percent, and I am not risking it."

Dumbledore's periwinkle blue eyes darken slightly.

"That's why I've chosen the perfect candidate for the job!" Mycroft said with a sinister look in his eyes.

"But one of them is a pure muggle. He does not have the required elements to teach-?"

"Oh, you mean the lack of magic? What's the point in having Muggle Studies as a part of the curriculum? Why not better learn someone who is a full muggle that understands our culture, our world? It doesn't matter if he doesn't have magic as long as he is competent enough to teach the children properly, he can have the job."

"But these are dark times, Mycroft, not many people would like the idea of a muggle teaching at Hogwarts. The Ministry won't accept that, even if I agree on this the Ministry would disapprove of your suggestion."

"But you forget, I am the British Government, _and_ the Ministry of Magic." Mycroft calmly said eyes darken cruelly. "_I _have that much power."

"But how can the man protect himself from harm? We can't be there for him at all times." Dumbledore tried to reason with the man, telling him that a unarmed muggle is no place in this world when war is coming.

"Oh, it's no problem. This man was a soldier, if I recall from my brother's conversation, he can protect himself. He has served the Queen and he has excellent skills, that, if he weren't enamored with my brother then I would have hired him as a perfect hitman. You might be surprise about this one even a muggle, this man is dangerous in his own right." Mycroft smoothly said. "Plus, he's a doctor and the children should be more interested to learn more about a man who was both a killer and a healer."

Dumbledore was at loss. There was no way he can say no when he stared at those cold, heartless eyes, daring him to defy his claims and orders. If he did say no then Mycroft will remove him from his post as Headmaster and his status for he has enough sufficient evidence that could pin point him down for being careless and insufficient, for endangering his students multiple times for the past two years.

Dumbledore sighed as he picked up a quill and signed their papers, approving them as new teachers.

"I am glad we can agree on." Mycroft said as he grabbed the papers, as a result they multiply into another copy. "You can keep those."

Mycroft nodded his head once before turning around to leave. "I'll see you around Albus."

Anthea followed her boss but she paused from the doorway to face the Headmaster. Her brown eyes stared at him when all of a sudden they flashed into yellow before returning them into their natural color.

Obviously, he can read her threat very well.

* * *

**Sherlock**

**Fun fact:**

**Sherlock's wand: **Barberry - Sharpness; Satire; Petulance; Ill temper; Sourness of temper.

**Hamish's wand: **Walnut - Stratagem; Intellect

**Author's note: **Here it is guys the long awaited chapter four. Reviews is a must! Wanna know what you think.


	5. Clueing for Looks

**I am Best friend's with Hamish Holmes**

**By Ise**

**New Summary:** Hamish, Harry and Draco are best friends who are in different Houses. They try to find ways to make their friendship work. Draco started to learn how to use a touchscreen Ipad, Harry likes watching T.V, and Hamish is slowly polluting their minds for his amusement. Sherlock hates Mycroft for assigning him as a teacher but John loves every minute of it.

**Pairing:**Sherlock/John, Hamish x (?), Harry x (Male HPCharacter) and Draco x (Female HPCharacter).

**Disclaimer:**I don't own Sherlock BBC and Harry Potter

**Authors note:**Hello everyone. New update! Special treat for my favorite people over there, I made this chapter a bit longer, hopefully, you will enjoy this new development. If you don't mind having innocent, light shonen-ai or BL in this story its cool but to those who are a bit uneasy about it you can stop reading and find something else that doesn't have a gay content on it, cos' it's cool with me if you stop reading this. Anyway, it's already 2 o'clock classes starts at 9 am so I need to post this quick before I go to sleep. Just finished it like three hours ago, and I am on the verge of sleeping, so a little warning, there will be some crazy grammar problems over here but try to swallow those bitter, irritating pills of wrongness and proceed reading the story cos right now I am half-asleep lolz and I am excited to post this. Because this chapter, I am proud of this one, my baby. So please take care of this and tell me how did it go?

**Warnings: **Wrong grammars.

* * *

**Clueing for Looks**

**Chapter 5**

Vernon Dursley and Harry Potter walked up to the porch step. Harry was silent but deep down he was excited to see his best friend again. Vernon ignored the boy completely, not saying a damn word to the freak. He reached out the handle to give a good strong knocking and then they wait. It was awkward for the both of them as they waited for someone to open the door.

It has become a tradition for the Dursleys to escort one Harry Potter to Baker Street so that he can spend his summer vacation with the Holmes boy. Vernon and his wife didn't like the Holmes boy but they feared him. They know what he was capable of and they know that he has the power to destroy their normal lives if they didn't do their part of the deal.

The first time they met the Holmes boy it was the end of the school year.

Harry approached them with a tall, lanky boy behind him. Petunia pursed her lips at the sight of them but didn't say anything that spoke of her opinion.

Hamish noticed Harry's guardians and he didn't like what he saw. Before they step out from the wall, Hamish invited Harry to spend his three months with him at Baker Street till the start of the school term knowing that the Durselys will use him once again as their slave and abuse him further. Harry was ecstatic of course, for this was the first time someone invited him to their house, but he sobered up when reality sinks in. He will never get the opportunity when the Dursley's answer will always be no.

But Hamish insisted he tried.

And so, Harry broached the subject about him spending his summer holidays with Hamish Holmes until September the 1st. Harry looked at his uncle with uncertain hope shown in his eyes. But Vernon smirked, making Harry feel the sting of his rejection when he denied him. Harry was hurt and was almost in tears when the plan failed.

The Holmes boy narrowed his eyes.

Feeling triumph when they see the teary-eyed Potter, the Dursleys felt like a winner knowing they pulled the freak down like the worthless scum that he was, for in their own little world Harry doesn't deserve the happiness. But what they didn't expect to happen after this event was when the Holmes boy did something scandalous.

The first week had been hard for Harry. He spends his time doing chores that had been piling up since he left for school. The Dursleys weren't fair to him as they used him as their personal slave once again. Harry felt miserable when they treated him so cruelly, giving him useless tasks that could have been done by them if they wanted to, instead they let him do all the dirty work for them. He felt all the happiness that he'd experienced back in Hogwarts sucked out from him when he was dumped back here at 4th Privet Drive. He wished that this torture ends. He doesn't want to live this kind of life no more. Eating scrap food, sleeping under the cupboard, following their orders as if he weren't someone, a human being to be exact, that deserved to be treated equally and with respect. But the respect that he can get from here was nothing, so different from the Wizarding World were people treated him like a hero, a celebrity. Back there, he was important, but here, he was nothing.

He doesn't want to keep this up till the next term.

Lucky for him, he doesn't have to wait that long when a miracle came to him in a form of a phone call and the voice behind it.

That afternoon on a Thursday, Harry was taking care of the garden, weeding, when he heard his Aunt calling out to him in her shrill voice. Harry stood up with stiff legs for he'd been crouching on his hunches for awhile, trying to ripped the weeds from the flower bed. Harry can feel the blood started to rush back. His legs wobbled a bit as he moved to the door where his Aunt was waiting for him with a phone in her hand. He took of the gloves and put them on the counter. He washed his hands and wipes them on a wash cloth before approaching his Aunt.

Aunt Petunia was standing in the living room. Her hand was out stretch for him to pick the phone from her grasp. When he took the phone from her, her face shows her agitation; clearly something must have troubled her to make her feel that way. Curious, Harry put the phone near his ear wanting to know who could be calling him.

"Hello?" Harry asked.

"_Hey, BFFL!"_ a familiar voice called. Harry couldn't help but grinned widely when he recognized the voice of his best friend.

"Hamish! Oh geez! How the bloody-? How did you find out the number of the Dursley's? I don't recall giving you one."

"_Ahahaha, hey Har! I know, I know, I may sound stalkerish to you but I forgot to ask you your home number, so stupid of me to forget that detail, but! Luckily, I managed to track you down... both your number and your home address."_

"Riiight, it doesn't sound like your stalking me Misha. It doesn't sound like it at all." Harry sarcastically joked.

"_Oh, hush, you. I know you missed me! Admit it! You love me, your best friend in the whooollleee world!"_

Harry laughed, feeling his day getting better.

"_Ahhhh, you're laughing. Why are you laughing? Did I make a joke about my love for you, Har?"_

"Oh, stop you." Harry smiled. "I missed you too, you dork."

"_Dork? Dork! Why I never!" _Hamish laughed all of a sudden. "_All jokes aside. So how are you holding up?"_

"I'm doing fine. I was tending the garden before you called me."

"_You're glad that I interrupt. I, on the other hand, had the wonderful opportunity of talking to your Aunt."_

Harry glanced at his Aunt who was in the kitchen giving him enough privacy.

"Yeah, you did and thanks for that. I needed a break from the chores that Aunt Petunia gave me. So, what did you told her that made her look like you insulted her duck collection?"

"_She has a duck collection?" _Harry could hear the sound of his friend snorting. "_Pffftt~ laaammee!"_

"Hamish what's the reason for you in calling me?"

"_Oh! I am just here to drop you a notice."_

"For what?" Harry looked confused. "And don't you dare ignore the first question, Misha!"

"_Ahahaha, alright, alright, Harry. I just told your Aunt some of her secrets about some things here, and there, especially mentioning about this and that about herself that I wasn't suppose to know about." _Hamish snickered. _"Annnd we're picking you up at 1800, so prepare yourself!"_

"What?!" Harry hissed at him. He doesn't know which one he was most surprise at, the fact that Hamish did the _trick _again, particularly threatens his Aunt or that Hamish, and possibly his family are coming to get him.

"_I am not saying it again, Harry, you know how I hate repeating myself."_

Harry made a disbelieving sound. He groaned as he rubbed his eyes with his other hand while holding the phone tightly. "You threaten my Aunt?"

"_Yes. Isn't it obvious?"_

"God, Misha."

"_You know me."_

"I am not going to argue about this."

"_You know me."_ Harry could hear the smile from the phone. "_You should know by now that I am always right. Plus, you and I both know what's good for you and your sanity."_

Harry grumbled.

"_Now be a good boy and give the phone to your Aunt, cos' daddy wasn't done talking to her."_

"Oh quit that, Misha, you sounded like an old pervert." Without hearing his reply he called his Aunt. He saw her coming from the kitchen, her face stern but he can see the tremble on her lips. He gave her the phone.

Aunt Petunia shakily took a deep breath before putting the phone near her ear. Harry watched her curiously as her face turns into different colors. She blush bright red and then, all of a sudden, she pales at something on what Hamish had said. Harry took note of her, for she said yes's a lot and said a few no's too.

When she was done she turned to faced him, obviously the conversation was over. She placed the phone back to its place and told him to pack his things while she waits for Vernon to return home so she could talk about the new arrangement.

When Vernon arrived from work, he wasn't pleased to hear this from his wife.

Vernon wasn't happy to this new arrangement so he tried to stop it from happening. He punished Harry, of course, by isolating him. The reason? For giving the freaks their telephone number and their address. Harry was furious as he felt the injustice of it all, wanting to use his magic so he could punish his Uncle for this but he refrains himself from breaking the Magical Law, knowing that Hamish was about to get him and do it for him, in a muggle-way.

Vernon was prepared for the confrontation with the Holmes boy and his family, but what he didn't expect to find when he opens the door was a man who was known to be famous in both the living and the dead. Vernon should have known that the name Holmes was not something easy to forget, especially the Holmes Sr. who has the ability to deduce your whole life in just one cool, glance.

"Vernon Dursley, I presumed?" the gorgeous, tall, and sophisticated consulting detective said with a deep baritone voice that promised something dark and wicked.

Vernon was speechless when he was face to face with the consulting detective.

Sherlock Holmes stared down at the fat lard with his wife and child behind him. Sherlock already knew everything about this man, what's his job, what he has been eating and doing for the past hour before he arrived and what he was feeling right now, seeing that the man has no self-control in hiding what he feels towards him tells a lot.

The woman behind him, Sherlock knows that this must be the aunt whom Harry shares blood with is the sister of his deceased mother. He already knows a lot about her too, including her old wounds and resentments towards her own dead sister, which in a way he can relate but not to a certain extend to abuse your sibling's child, unlike her.

Speaking of child.

Sherlock curled his lips in disgust when he spotted the little pig boy starring at him with wide-eyes. They obviously spoiled him rotten.

But where is Harry?

"You already know why we are here, yes? If not, then your brain must have suddenly stop functioning thanks to all that unhealthy diet that you've been following causing all the fat to damage whatever remaining brain cells you have in that skull of yours, let me give you a friendly reminder. My son has extended his invitation to Mr. Potter in spending his summer holidays at our home. With your consent, we will be retrieving young Mr. Harry Potter to come with us." Sherlock drawled behind him John was hidden from their view, waiting.

"Now, hold on a second!" Vernon managed to retrieve his voice. "I didn't give any permission to give the freak to you! You and your lot should leave right now or I'll be calling the cops!"

"Oh? I am surprise by your intelligence." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Calling the cops? Why would you call the cops when we haven't done anything to cause you any trouble, unless, you're hiding something, like for example; you locking said Mr. Potter under that cupboard over there for a long period of time. That is a serious case of abuse that you are showing to us."

John stiffens but didn't make a comment. Vernon and Petunia paled at his proclamation.

"How…?" Vernon stuttered, horrified at what Sherlock had said.

"Go ahead, and call the police. You should already recognize me by now. I have strong connections with the Scotland Yard and a brother who has a minor position in the British Government, and you have a lot of evidence of neglect and abuse to this young boy who is your family." Sherlock smirked darkly at their terrified faces. "You don't want to have this on the news, do you? Your reputation will be tarnished, your life will be ruined forever and your son will never enjoy his childhood again when his parents are in jail."

"Y-you, you can't do this to us!" Petunia tried to say, she clutched her son tightly to her breast.

John showed himself from Sherlock's tall, lean figure as he glared at the woman. "I am disappointed in you, Mrs. Dursley. You are a mother. You should know what it feels like to be a mother. Why would you do this to your sister's son? How could you do this to an innocent boy?"

Petunia glared despite the fear in her eyes. "Innocent? _Hah. _He is not an innocent boy. He is not even human! Just like _her. _She is just like _them_, he is like _them!"_

"And who are they?" John suddenly went quite watching her eyes burn with jealousy, rage and fear mixed into one.

"_They are freaks! An abomination! Monsters!_" Petunia shoved her husband aside as she went to stare at John in the face with burning hate in her eyes. Trying to communicate with him with her eyes alone, sensing that he is normal like her, like her son and husband, that maybe he would understand.

"You called your own family freaks?" John coldly said. "Then you don't deserve to call yourself a mother, sister and aunt. What I see here, you are the monster in this family."

Petunia was stunned at his words.

"Don't you dare insult my wife!" Vernon defends as he pulled his wife behind him. "If you want the freak, fine! Take him! We don't want him in our house, our lives! So just leave my family alone!"

"A wise move, Mr. Dursley. Any more than that just to keep us away from getting Harry then _there will be a problem_." Sherlock nodded to John.

"Excuse me." John muttered, shoving his way inside to stand in front of the small door under the stairs. John breathed in deeply, not wanting to do anything rash, when he sees the heavy padlocks sticking on the door. "Can somebody open the door?"

Vernon moved towards the door, hands in his pockets to grab the keys. John moved aside, his face showed his disgust.

Sherlock was waiting outside the door knowing that the hallway will be cramp if he went in. He watch with cold eyes as Vernon unlocks the door to reveal young Harry Potter curled into a ball.

"Doctor Watson?" Harry squint at the sudden light filled his room. "You're here."

Seeing Harry's eyes filled with relief and joy crushed John's heart. John bends down as he touched Harry's cheek with care.

"Yes, I am here. Come on let's get you out of here." John grabbed Harry and hoisted him in his arms. "Harry, where did you keep all your stuffs?"

Harry buried his face at the crook of John's neck, whispering his ear that the Dursleys hide them in the attic. John relay the words to Sherlock who nodded his head, taking a step back to let John out while he went in barking orders at the Dursleys to show him the attic.

Once he had all Harry's belongings, Sherlock warned the Dursleys if he sees anything wrong in Harry's mental, emotional and physical wellbeing the next time he sees them, then he will file a report of neglect and abuse to the NSY.

With that, the Dursleys didn't do anything that show signs of abuse to Harry Potter in the following years.

An old woman in her early sixties opens the door with her loving grandmother smile on her face as she spotted Harry Potter grinning at her.

"Harry, dear, you're here at last!" Mrs. Hudson clapped her hands and then opens them when Harry ran towards her to give her a big hug.

"Mrs. Hudson!" Harry gave her a big wet kiss on the cheek. Mrs. Hudson giggles, giving Harry a soft kiss on his cheek. "I am finally here!"

"Mr. Dursley." Mrs. Hudson politely greeted him. Vernon scowled but nodded at her before leaving.

"Same time the usual." Mrs. Hudson called out.

Vernon just grunted and left with his car.

Mrs. Hudson cluck her tongue disapprovingly, she never did like that man. Mrs. Hudson turns to face Harry with a huge smile. "C'mon, luv, Hamish is waiting for you."

Harry nodded excitedly as he dashed towards the stairs calling out Hamish's name.

"Watch your step, Harry!" Mrs. Hudson called out, watching the boy went inside the door.

* * *

**Sherlock**

In two years, Harry learned a lot of things that he did not have the opportunity to learn when he studied in a normal school. Hamish was happy to teach Harry anything that he needs to know such as Biology, Chemistry, Algebra and History. When Hamish found out that Harry's education were lacking, Sherlock took upon himself to teach Harry some lessons, unfortunately Sherlock's teaching were way advance for Harry who isn't a born genius and so John took the lead instead, teaching Harry the simple basics. What Harry didn't learn from school he made up for it by learning from John, who was an excellent teacher.

In a way, Harry spends his summer studying trying to learn more as possible that the Dursleys neglect to give him the proper education that he deserved (since they always send him to a delinquent school, thus a crappy school life). Hamish also helped Harry make his summer homework that the teachers at Hogwarts assigned them for the next term, seeing that he was having troubles understanding magic in general with its complicated theories and such. Hamish assigned himself as tutor for Harry despite being in the same age; Harry got to admit that he is smarter than him.

Hamish is after all the son of Sherlock Holmes.

Although, they spend their time learning new things to help fill up their brains with knowledge in both magic and muggle, that Harry sadly lack in the brain department since his brain doesn't work that fast, unlike Hamish, it took more time for Harry to catch up. Hamish also showed Harry new technology that he himself never used or explored before. Hamish was happy to show Harry how to use a laptop properly, how to call using a mobile phone and playing video games like his gameboy.

Harry was happy to learn more about the things that Hamish can provide. According to him, he doesn't want to associate himself someone stupid so Harry has a lot of work to do.

When Harry was in view, Hamish greeted him with a casual wave and a happy "Waz up."

Harry ran up to greet Hamish with their secret handshake. They curled their hands into a fist and bump them together with their thumbs sticking out, wiggling them together before curling their thumbs around each other with their palm open wide before letting them go to give the final close of their complicated handshake by hi-fiving.

Since they are now thirteen years old, the two teenagers already adapted to the new generations of their kind. They follow the new sense of style, fashion, what's hip and new, especially the new phrases (like; 'Laterz', 'waz up' and 'hi-z') that the teens took a liken to the short vocabulary (to Mycroft's horror and Sherlock's amusement). Hamish took the habit of following Sherlock's sense of style in wearing expensive dress suites when walking in public but when at home he will wear hideous looking, and eye-damaging jumpers, which John happily approves despite Sherlock's complains.

Like right now. Hamish is wearing bright yellow jumpers with little bumblebees flying in a curve line around his torso (that's the only jumper that Sherlock tolerates).

Unlike Harry, he only wore a black shirt with a green letter H on the front, brown plaid pants and black and green sneakers.

In contrast to Harry's clothing, Harry only wore normal looking clothes, both in public and at home. But the difference is that the clothes that Harry wore are all his, using his money and not hand-me downs from his cousin. How did he get the money from the Gringotts Bank? It all thanks to Hamish's uncle. It was Mycroft who talked to Albus Dumbledore in giving him the key to Harry's vaults, since Dumbledore is Harry's current guardian while the other guardian, his godparent Sirius Black, is a wanted criminal and currently missing and his other godparent, Remus Lupin, is still missing, Mycorft had to asked permission from Dumbledore for the key to grant access to Harry's Family vault in order to exchange the gold for muggle currency.

Seeing his family's vault once when he was a first year, Harry was aware the amount of gold that his parents managed to save before their untimely demise. He was glad that his relatives didn't find out about it for they surely would have taken most of it, if not all, just for the sake of 'proper compensation' for 'opening their home for him', which is a load of bollocks. Harry only needed enough money for the new clothes, shoes and other stuffs that he needs as necessities.

"I'm going to drop my bag in your room, Hamish." Harry went up the stairs to head towards Hamish room (which was John's old room before Hamish came into their lives. But now, John migrated to Sherlock's room in order for Hamish to have a room of his own).

"Hm." Hamish muttered, not moving from his spot. Hamish was seating on his father's favorite chair while fixing the famous pink phone from the study in pink.

Harry returned from unpacking his clothes and put it inside the vacant drawer under Hamish's socks (that is in order, with indexes. Like father, like son). He returns downstairs to find him fiddling with the phone.

"Hey, Misha?" _Wonder where his parents are?_ Harry thought idly.

"Hmm?"

"Have you finished your summer homework?" Harry took a seat on John's favorite chair.

"Yep since three days ago."

"Already?" _Must be they are on a case. Hamish is so lucky to have really cool parents._

"I was bored." Hamish looked up from the phone in his hand to stare at Harry briefly before continuing what he was doing. "Besides I have more important things to do than making homework. _Dull_."

"Like experimenting that phone?"

"Aha! Now that you mentioned it, Harry, I finally made a break through!" Hamish grinned at him excitedly.

Harry smiled fondly at his best friend. He can't help but admire him and his brilliant mind and how lucky to have him as a friend that stood by him through all the trials they have gone through, him and Draco.

"What kind of invention that you made this time, Hamish?" Harry asked looking at the mobile phone on his hand with curiosity.

When they were in first year, Hamish first invention was a black apple Iphone, a muggle technology that he brought to Hogwarts. But bringing muggle technology to Hogwarts, which is filled with raw magic, causes a malfunction to the circuit system deeming them useless. So, muggle-born students don't make a habit in bringing their technology to Hogwarts until Hamish found a way to turn things around.

Hamish had found a way to fix that problem by replacing electricity (the source of power) into magic. Now it can power without magic jamming into the system instead the more magic filled environment the more power the technology absorbs. Like a solar calculator. Thanks to that discovery many muggle-born kids tried to ask Hamish to fix theirs and to the surprise and wonder to all young wizards and witches they found muggle technology interesting.

Hamish became quite an inventor around the school. Many muggle-born children swarm around him any given time just to fix their own items, eventually, Hamish slowly start his own small business to earn some cash.

"I am working on finishing Papa's and Dad's phones." Hamish shoved his other hand in his pocket to pluck out John's phone.

"Why are you working on your parents' phone?" Harry looked confused.

"Cos' papa challenged me to add new features, and oh, your phone is over there." Hamish waved his hand that is holding Sherlock's phone at Harry's side where his six month old Samsung touchscreen android phone laid on the side desk.

"Okay, thanks." Harry turned on his phone. "What kind of new features?"

"Like making his phone indestructible from harm by a man's hand or a wizard's wand, add a magical locator-or something-so when this babies got stolen by some thief it releases an alarm signal triggering a booby trap-."

"What? What kind of booby-trap?" Harry look slightly worried but fascinated all the same.

"Nothing serious just an electrical shock, enough to stunned the person before activating its GPS."

"Wow." Harry looked impressed. Hamish smirked to himself seeing his reaction, knowing he out done himself once again. "You've been busy."

"Don't worry, Harry, I am done." He shoved both phones in his pocket. "Now you have me all to yourself."

Hamish winked.

"Gosh, you're such a flirt, Misha." Harry grinned at him, brushing the flirting aside as if he wasn't affected at Hamish's wooing attempts.

"Dang, still not working." Hamish stood up walking away from the living room as he headed towards the stairs. He paused at the bottom of the stairs to turn his head, giving him a smirk. "I guess I have to try harder, huh, Har, unless you already found someone you like."

Harry paled. _Oh geez!_

Hamish ran up the stairs, laughing at Harry's horrified face.

"Hamish! You didn't!"

* * *

**Sherlock**

Before Hamish was born, John's old room was small, plain and simple. But 221b is home. His room was covered with this old-looking wall paper that had a certain charm to it. The floor was made of polish wood with a soft rug covering over it, so every time you step on the floor John would hear the sounds of creaking wood, announcing your presence whether you intended to or not. The bed was made with grey or green sheets with two small pillows. A desk table where the lamp was place neared his bed, in arms reach, and a chair besides the door. His drawers where painted rich red and his window facing right in front of the door.

But that was before Hamish was born.

When Hamish was born things needed to be change. The once nursery room transformed into a room fit for a teenage boy. The wall papers needed to be replaced with blue and grey, his bed sheets were replaced with Grandma Martha's special quilt that has all the funny looking animals and symbols all over it and he has a new desk table where he can study. His dad bought a new closet where he can put more clothes and a small bookshelf where he can place his favorite books. Hamish decorated his room with science related stuffs. Like the periodic table, identical to Sherlock's, was placed near the door, glow-in-the-dark stickers decorated his ceiling making it look like he has stars in his room, pictures of animals including dinosaurs, Einstein's face, a poster of a rocket ship and a boy band that he'd like and fanboy over.

His room looked like any other regular teenage boy's room.

Except for that bumblebee stuff toy on his bed.

And, his skull on his study table.

Those things are manly, not creepy.

"So, Harry," Hamish made a bee-line to his chair that is near his study table. "How's your homework?"

Harry shrugged his shoulder taking a seat on Hamish's bed. "All done."

Hamish held out his hand, palm open. "Can I see?"

"Aw, c'mon, I don't need you to check my homework every time. Don't you trust me?" Harry whines.

"There is a reason why I am your tutor, Har. And besides, you suck at balancing your study time with that stupid game of yours."

"Hey, it's not my fault that I am good at playing Quidditch! And it's not stupid."

Hamish rolled his eyes. "Your House is lucky to have you for playing seeker. I've heard that the Badgers never win a Quidditch game since, like, _ever_."

"So, you understand why I am so slumped and tired and don't have the time to study?"

"Because you're that important? Hufflepuff needs you? It is still no excuse, Harry." Hamish narrowed his eyes. "Now, your homework, unless you didn't do it."

"Of course I did!"

"Then hand 'em over!"

Harry grumbled.

Hamish has been helping Harry studying not just magic but also in muggle studies. Since he has become quite popular in the House of Hufflepuff for giving the Badgers a chance in winning a game of Quidditch against the other Houses for in the past they never did win anything since, well let's use Hamish's term, like _ever. _Harry had no time for studying for he had a lot of practice to attend because he was the youngest and the most talented seeker they had. Harry had to train extra hard in order to catch up with the well-experienced players which resulted him feeling exhausted and not enough energy to study.

So, Hamish had to force him to have enough time to study for he will not tolerate to see his best friend get another P in his test.

Hamish skimmed the papers almost finishing it in less than five minutes.

"Not bad. I'm impressed. You're essay?"

Harry reached for his bag to rummage around to find the papers. He handed his essay papers to Hamish.

Hamish raised an eyebrow as he noticed that it is in Biology and Physics instead of the last topic that they'd discussed.

"What? I am done with the last topic. I want to proceed to the next lesson."

Hamish smiled at him, pride shinning in his eyes.

"For not being a genius you make up with determination and hard work."

Harry flushed but a goofy smile formed on his face.

"So, heard anything from Draco?" Harry asked after a beat of silence.

Hamish was reading, making him look like he wasn't listening to Harry but Harry knew his friend very well, seeing the way his mouth twitch shows he heard him.

A minute later, Hamish gave the papers back to him.

"I'm going to give you a 90%."

"Thanks."

"About Draco, I got a letter from him last night. In his letter he said something about an escaped convict running around in Britain. His name is Sirius Black, the infamous right-hand man of the Dark Lord."

"How did he escape? Wasn't the prison that he was held in was supposed to be impossible to break out?"

"The Azakaban. Yes, it is hard to escape from that dreadful place but somehow he managed to bypass the Dementors. Hm, I have the urge to meet this man."

"Hamish that man is a killer."

"Do you know about him?" Hamish waved that comment away as if the word killer doesn't phased him at all, maybe it doesn't, knowing Sherlock Holmes is his father and the life that he'd live in doesn't have a greater impact on him that much.

"I know a little bit. It's kinda hard to get information when you're living with the Dursleys."

"Well, my dear friend, let me tell you an interesting tidbit about this notorious killer, Sirius Black." Hamish grinned excitedly. He stood up from his seat, grabs the Daily Prophet from his desk table and unfolds it to reveals Sirius Black's face. He walks towards Harry with that same smirk on his face as if the thought of unsolved case excites him. "Sirius Black escaped for one reason and one reason only, and guess who?"

Harry stared at his silver-green-blue eyes.

"It's me, isn't it?"

Hamish just hummed, not confirming or denying his claims. "That's what the papers said here."

"But you don't believe the Prophet and you know something so just spit it out already, Hamish!" Harry hated when he does that. Keeping secrets from him, not telling on what he was thinking. He feels left out sometimes.

Hamish grins at him and he chuckles. "Oh, Harry, I don't make a habit in telling you, unless you work for it."

"Why are you such a twat?"

"Because, in a way, I am?" Hamish shrugs. "But if you can't think for yourself then let me entertain you about my speculations."

"A genius needs an audience, right?" Harry mumbles to himself, remembering those words from Dr. Watson when he talks about Sherlock and him.

_Does this mean I am the conductor of light?_

"Remember when we were in second year?" Hamish sat next to him as he begins his tale.

"Yeah, I remember. Hard to forget when you're fighting a giant snake with your life and amnesiac, fake-teacher, a worried brother and two of my best friends fighting each other when a younger-looking Dark Lord was trying sic his pet at us."

"Hey, if Draco would just develop some ba-."

"I'm telling Mycroft if you swear!" Harry smiled at him in a teasing way.

Hamish grunted catching himself from saying the word _balls_.

"-instead of trying to cling to me or running around like a coward, getting himself killed in the process I wouldn't have to try and argue with him on what to do. Hmf, he dared questioning my plans. I am the smart one around the three of us."

"You, yourself can't stop talking about the Basilisks and how you want a sample of it to study-"

"It was for a scientific reason! And besides, I know how to multi-tasks."

"By running around with Draco behind you, dodging from its attack and you still had the time to spouts those stuffs about having a blood sample or a skin sample for a present to your dad on Christmas?"

"He liked my gift." Hamish said with a huff but a mischievous grinned spread all around his face. "But you and that hottie Dark Lord were flirting together while Draco and I were doing the hard work."

Harry flushed suddenly.

"We weren't flirting! He was throwing death threats at me!"

"Uh-huh, well that guy really was into you. He has his eyes on you _all the time_."

"Merlin, Hamish, Voldemort? Really?"

"He's good looking isn't he?" Hamish raised an eyebrow at him. "C'mon, don't lie to me. Admit it, Har, Tom Riddle is a really good looking hot guy and he is a dangerous man too! He is the perfect bad boy type. Well, when he's an adult, that's a different story all together."

"Ugh, Hamish Malcolm Holmes!" Harry looked quite mad and embarrassed. "Stop pairing me up with any guy who is on the wrong side of the team!"

"What's wrong being a bad boy?"

"First was Draco, which we all know his dad is a Death Eater who is in league with the _enemy_." Harry made an emphasis on the word 'enemy.'

"Hm, it is a shame, you and Draco would look good together but he's playing a different team and he already likes someone."

"Next is Snape!" Harry ignored those words, trying to fight down a blush.

"He is intelligent, Harry, if only you move pass that hate that you got in there-"

"Hamish, he hates my guts because my face reminds him of my dad and he is a teacher! And he is, like what? Ten? Twenty times my senior?"

"I thought age doesn't matter?"

"Morgana's ti-! I don't even like him! What makes you think I have any interest in Snape?"

"With that sexual tension you got over there every time you glared at him or whined about him for being a dic-"

"Sexual tension?" Harry looked horrified.

Hamish laughed at him. "Okay, okay. I got it."

"Stop thinking about me and Snape like that because it's disgusting."

Hamish just smiled at him.

"And now the Dark Lord… really Hamish?"

"He has some plus points. I heard he is a Prefect, a genius, good looking and let's see…. What else…"

"Again, he is a Dark Lord and my god, Hamish, he's way, way older than you and me, and he could be my GRANDFATHER!"

"Hmpf." Hamish didn't say anymore.

"Anyway, since we already established that, what about second year?" Harry moved their topic to the main point.

"Well before that incident, remember when we found a recipe in making a family tree? 'Cos we were curious about our family lines and were we came from?"

"Yeah, I remember. The Holmes is the descendant of an Elf named Annatar while mine, the Potters, is the descendant of the Peverell Family." Harry recalled those times. "What about it?"

They were curious second years. When they discovered that Harry can speak the language of snakes, or parseltongue, they researched if he was the descendant of Salazar Slytherin himself. What they found was a mixture of relief and disbelief. Turns out he wasn't the direct descendant but the Potters and the Gaunts, who were the direct-blood descendants of Slytherin, shared the same ancestor. But Harry's ancestor doesn't have the gift and only Salazar himself and the Gaunts had that kind of gift, so no one else in the Potter line inherit that kind of rare ability. And so, a mystery they couldn't solve when they found nothing that could explain why Harry can speak to snakes.

At least he wasn't accused for being the Heir to the Chamber of Secrets.

"Well, we discovered some interesting information about you." Hamish said. "Not only you have three ancestors that the Potters shared with the Slytherins and the Gaunts, but you are also a Black and by some extension through marriage, a Malfoy and a Lestrange, if you count Narcissa, Draco, Andromeda, Bellatrix, the Dark Lord's fangirl and Sirius Black as family. You could have gone either those families instead of living with the Dursleys but then again the Blacks, the Malfoys and the Lestranges are all followers to the Dark Lord, so yeah, maybe except two."

Harry's eyes gone wide.

"A month after when my parents got you out from the Dursleys home that summer when we were still eleven, I asked my Papa to take me to the Gringotts Bank to see the will of the Potters, took a lot of persuading, manipulating and bribing and of course your blood."

"When did you take the time to get a sample of my blood?" Harry asked, curious and a little bit of exasperate but not violated when Hamish did his weird thing in breaching his personal space. "And why did you go to the Bank without me? I have the right to go with you to know about my family's will! Where was I?"

"You were weak, Harry. You suffered malnourishment and you have a lot of broken bones. Daddy won't let you go because you were not well enough and besides bringing you with me to the bank might add stress to your mind thus affecting your healing process. Daddy would kill me for that. And the blood," Hamish, for once, blushed. "Err-, uhm, ahaha."

Hamish laughed nervously but Harry gave him the look.

"The first night you slept in my room." Hamish said, looking at him nervously.

Harry didn't say anything, not wanting to know more.

"Anyway," Hamish coughed. "The reason was because I want to know who was the next guardian besides your aunt Petunia Dursley. So, I used your blood because only the blood of a Potter will reveal the words that were written on the magic paper. And when the will of the Potter's showed me the names I was shocked."

"What did it show you? Who are they?" Harry asked.

"You have four godfathers. Their names are Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and… Severus Snape." Hamish grinned at him when he said the last name.

"What?!"

"Apparently, your dad was friends with the escaped convict and your mum is best friends with our gloomy potions teacher. Whew, I don't want to live that kind of messed up life you got there, hehe."

"Hamish, dear Merlin." Harry looked pale. "Did they know?"

"In the will they were all alive. And about Snape knowing, the way he treated you, I think not. I believed Professor Dumbledore didn't have the time to tell him. Odd, really, why wouldn't he?" Hamish frowned. "About Sirius, possibly, they were tight, your dad and he. But what is more interesting is that Remus Lupin went missing after Sirius 'murdered' Peter Pettigrew."

"But, but, that can't be right unless the will made a mistake."

"Harry it is a magical _blood _will. Using blood magic is powerful stuff. Your parents' will have the power to detect if one of your guardians is dead or not but apparently it showed that they are all alive. And in that will, it doesn't say about Petunia Dursley to be the next guardian." Hamish looked confused. "The Goblins told me when I asked about it turns out it was Professor Dumbledore who was the one to gave you to the Dursleys knowing that some of your guardians are alive. I just don't get it. Why didn't Professor Dumbledore try to locate the other guardians instead of directly placing you to those horrid people?"

"I-I don't know Hamish." Harry looked confused and a bit dazed by the new information. "I am confused as you."

"It is just a speculation but I believed that the murder behind Peter Pettigrew and the great betrayal to the Potters, that Sirius Black didn't do it, all of it. He didn't betray and murdered his friends."

"Why would you say that Hamish? Isn't it obvious that he is the murder and a backstabber to my parents?" Harry stared at him with anger in his eyes. "What proof do you have?"

Hamish scowled at him.

"I am disappointed in you Harry. Just because the Prophet told everybody garbage doesn't mean you have to believe them, it's the Prophet for god's sakes they are not one hundred percent facts! I have already given you the clues to piece them together. Think!"

Harry looked ashamed. The things that he'd learned from Hamish, it was too much for him to take and as a result his brain went overdrive to the point that he is blindsided to the evidence that are there, right in front of his face.

"I am sorry, Hamish. I just can't get my mind wrapped at the fact that Snape is my guardian; Peter is alive somewhere when he is supposed to be dead, Sirius could be innocent and Remus is missing. And then, there's Professor Dumbledore. The man that I admired might turn into something that I am afraid to think of."

Hamish eyes soften.

He sighed, frustrated but understanding. "Sorry, for being harsh. I forgot that you're emotional, sentimental and close to your heart that you don't process all the things that I had said with a cool head. You can help but react to them. I can't be like that. But I am not a machine so I understand, in a sense."

Hamish hugged his best friend. Harry smiled and returns the hug.

"Let's call it a day, yeah? You need to digest all those stuff in your head."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, it's going to take a while to sort them out."

Hamish hummed.

"Hey."

Harry looked at him with a question look. "Yeah?"

"Your eyes are green, like your mums." Hamish stared at those eyes as he points them out.

"Ah," Harry looked confused. "Yeah… that's what they all said about my eyes. You just noticed them now?"

"No, I noticed long ago. It's just, I just realized something."

"What?"

"The reason why there was so much sexual tension between you and Professor Snape is because not only you remind him of your father but your eyes remind him of your mum and that would mean Snape has feelings, _romantic feelings_ with your mum and those feelings extended to you but was turn off because of your face and every time he would look at your face instead of seeing the face of your mum it will only remind him of the man who stole his sweet heart!"

Harry punched Hamish on the face, knocking him down on the floor.

"Ouch!" Hamish was sprawled awkwardly with his longer limbs tangled him around. "Harry!"

"Please stop, it's so, ugh. Just stop. Period."

Hamish just grinned and then laughed. Harry tries to stay mad at his perverted, pretending to be a playboy, and genius best friend but seeing him laughing like that made him smile and laugh along with him.

"You suck, Misha."

"Love you too, Har, love you too."

"Platonically, I hope."

"Maybe. Why? Feeling homophobic? 'Cos I am sensing all this negative vibes coming from you if I said the word… gay."

A loud thud could be heard followed by a yelp.

"BOYS!"

"Sorry Dad!"

"Sorry Dr. Watson!"

* * *

**Sherlock**

**Please read and review**

**Let's play a game:**

I already had plans for the pairings with Harry and Draco but the problem is I am clueless with Hamish… so yeah, if any of you guys have a suggestion post the names that you want him to pair up with when you review and I will choose three names that I like and then let's have a poll and see who will win.

It could be the lucky gal or guy.

**Note: **I see Hamish as the kind of kid who loves to experiment with everything and anything, including his sexuality, despite being, like what? He's thirteen? Kids these days. (sighs sadly, although it's false). Don't worry nothing explicit just a crush here and there. They will get all touchy-feely when they are at the right age or when I feel like it, just to play around and have fun with them. Harry though, I like Harry as a Hufflepuff. He is nice and sweet when he was still a first year before his first influence with Ron and that ruined it. No offense to Gryffindors but seeing Harry as a Gryffin too many times in the other fics gets boring. I wanna see him as a sweetie-pie but average intelligent Hufflepuff who got the loyalty in the bag plus with spunk!

**Thank you for reading see you on the next chappie~**

**Ise**


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